Starting Over
by Jennifier D. and Aishuu
Summary: Stop. Rewind. Let's start over with Atobe as a Seigaku student... and the changes that brings.
1. Prologue

**Starting Over**  
_~ A Prince of Tennis Alternate Universe ~_  
by Jennifier D. and Aishuu

  


  


  


Prologue

  
The scratching of Inui's pencil was hardly noticeable among the louder cheers and comments of his teammates as the two top players of Seigaku prepared to face off at the training camp. The two were meeting at the net to decide the serve, but the icy atmosphere between them was practically palpable.

His shorthand wasn't decipherable by anyone except him, which was probably a good thing, since the rather blunt comments about what was happening would have earned him more than a few enemies. Considering there was already enough tension among the team, the last thing he wanted was to be a target himself.

April weather still held a hint of winter, and he was glad for the warmth of his regular's warm-ups. The two players on the court, dressed in just shorts and short-sleeved shirts, were probably a bit cold, but neither was the type to show any flaw. He watched them carefully, waiting for a sign of weakness, but knowing there probably were none. Perfection was rare, but they were both teetering on that pinnacle.

Beside him, a soft voice spoke. "See anything, Inui?"

He turned to see the number three player regarding the court with wide open eyes, a rarity. Fuji Syuusuke almost always wore a pleasant, closed-eyed expression, seeming to sleepily watch what was happening around him with bemusement. Only a sharp ear caught how pointed his comments could be, and a truly dry sense of humor understood the slightly sadistic nature of what he implied, time after time. Today he slouched low, his hands shoved into his pockets casually, but the way his attention was fastened on the game in front of him told Inui that this game was going to be one of the usual free-for-alls that occurred whenever these two played.

"It's going to be bad," Inui said. 

Fuji nodded his agreement, his usually placid face serious. "The incident with Momoshiro earlier has made Keigo-chan a bit irritable."

It was always something or another, Inui wanted to say. It seemed to him that Tezuka Kunimitsu and Atobe Keigo were incapable of getting along for thirty seconds. Incident after incident was required in his book, as the stoic buchou and confident diva had countless run-ins, time after time, irritating the hell out of the other.

"It was an accident," Inui said finally. Momoshiro wasn't one of Atobe's biggest fans, but he didn't support Tezuka - and that was enough for Atobe. The second year had been injured while playing Tezuka and hadn't been able to come to the training camp, which put Atobe in an exceedingly foul mood. If there was one thing that could be said for the diva, it was that he was loyal to those who were loyal to him.

All said, it was a situation that was getting worse by the moment. It made Inui wonder how the hell Seigaku was supposed to survive, when their top two players couldn't even breathe the same air without starting a cold war. 

"Saa."

The odd silence they fell into while waiting for an outcome was immediately broken by cheers and comments when the first service game was given to Atobe. Inui tilted his head to one side and noted the various expressions on his fellow club members' faces before taking down the appropriate notes. Fuji seemed oddly amused; it was most probably something which only he could understand or take amusement from in such a tense situation.

"...Atobe Keigo to serve."

The noise around him had been steadily building up into a headache-inducing hum. There was a sudden lapse into silence and it felt as if all had held their breaths while the diva narrowed his eyes and served.

Inui noted how it appeared to be almost always inevitable that they ended up watching the two best players of their team face off on the courts time and again, the intense rivalry rather telling of their intolerance for each other. It was interesting how the two of them were obviously opposites- not exact opposites, of course -and yet he could draw the parallels in their personalities as easily as he could pencil a line.

Tezuka was the quieter of the two, and from what information the data tennis player had gathered on him from the past couple of years, he was usually the less offensive of the two as well. He didn't provoke as much as Atobe did, but one couldn't help suspecting that there were instances where the lack of provocation was intentionally meant to annoy through his sheer indifference. It was also difficult to tell when he pulled a joke, but Inui thought he was beginning to see a pattern somewhere.

Atobe, on the other hand, could be described as 'flashy'. He was arrogant and acutely aware of his own talents, which often placed him in a position that favored badly with a number of the club members. Seigaku wasn't known for showy and talented individuals who climbed a hierarchy to the top-- it was built up from team effort, and Atobe's attitude alone could sometimes tear the whole club into pieces.

Inui liked a neutral standpoint when it came to the two boys, because this meant he could take down observations and opinions in the most unbiased manner possible. As a data collector, one must always aspire to be as objective as possible and that was his aim. He sided with neither and he made no inclination to join the club in its rivalry issues. He had other purposes for joining the club; although it was amusing to watch the ongoing competition from a detached point of view, it could get tiring, and they were heading nowhere near the club's original purpose.

"This looks like it's going to last for quite a while." Fuji's observation was closer to stating facts.

"Ah."

Sunset painted bright fingers of gold and red across the sky, reminding them of the lateness of the hour. Inui checked the two players still rallying on the courts before closing his notebook with a soft snap. He had watched enough of their matches to know that he couldn't afford to miss a single moment of their match scribbling in his notebook.

Tezuka and Atobe evolved in tennis constantly, and watching them was almost like watching a slow and dangerous dance on thin ice. Both were relentless and each pushed the other to heights nobody else could possibly understand. They were as compatible as they were not; one of them would have give way eventually, but as far as he could tell, it certainly wasn't going to happen within the recent future.

"...Tezuka Kunimitsu to serve."

There was a beautiful symmetry in their movements as Tezuka moved to take his turn. Sunlight seemed to halo his dark brown hair, turning him into a young tennis god as he tossed the ball up into the air with his right hand, preparing one of his amazing pinpoint serves - which Atobe would get. Service aces between the two were exceptionally rare. Atobe-Tezuka matches were about endurance, skill and pride.

The game count was in Atobe's favor, one game to love, but Inui knew that Tezuka would keep his service game in return. The chance of either of them breaking the other was less than five percent, and his calculations showed that the game would most likely end in a tie - like usual. And Ryuuzaki-sensei wouldn't let them play tiebreakers, not after the first one went 40-38, and was finally won by Tezuka after he unveiled a new move - the zeroshiki drop shot, which quickly became one of his trademarks.

That was the benefit of their rivalry, Inui knew. The two were constantly pushing each other to a new plateau of ability, and dragging everyone else along for the ride.

Fuji was a silent presence at his side, but as Tezuka took the second game after a fifteen minute skirmish, Inui spared him a glance as the two players changed courts.

"Who'll win?" he asked idly.

"Who had the better breakfast this morning?" Fuji answered smartly, shifting a bit as he stretched his legs. 

His point was a subtle one, but made well. The difference in skill varied from day to day, and while Inui usually leaned slightly towards Tezuka, Atobe was constantly managing to find ways to keep even with him in his attempt to prove that he was indeed the best player Seigaku had.

As Atobe took the third game, the data player looked over at where the club members had gathered, frowning a bit as he noticed the two distinct groups. Tezuka's supporters were on one side of the court, while Atobe's were on the other... the side he happened to be on, since the view was slightly better. But he really shouldn't stay over with Fuji for too long if he expected to maintain his precarious position as the only regular who hadn't outright declared an alliance.

"I´m going to go take a look from a different angle," Inui said to Fuji. "I want to see if the angle of Atobe's drop shot has changed as much as I think it has."

Fuji wasn't fooled by the polite excuse. "Say hi to Oishi and Kikumaru for me," he said.

Inui gave him an uneasy smile before quickly tracking around the court to stand next to the vice captain and his doubles partner. Oishi Syuuichirou and Kikumaru Eiji were the team's Golden Pair, and never seemed to be far from the other's side. Oishi was watching the game with a bit of concern, obviously worried that the players would over exert themselves, but his eyes couldn't hide how much he was enjoying the play.

"The team is going to be strong this year," Oishi murmured as he looked to Atobe and Tezuka. "We should be able to secure all the singles matches with Tezuka, Atobe and Fuji."

"Hmmm," Inui said in reply. It was true; both Atobe and Tezuka were Junior Selection Athletes, but that didn't mean they couldn't be defeated - anyone could be defeated, after all - and everyone knew that the last thing Seigaku needed was a repeat of last year's Kantou finals...

No. Best not to think of that.

Still, even though Seigaku was fielding an outstanding singles line up, and a nationally ranked doubles pair in its doubles one position, it did beg the question of what to do with doubles two.

Frankly put, all of the remaining players sucked at doubles. It was a dilemma.

Momoshiro was cut out for power tennis the same way Kawamura was, and his style was distinctively that of a singles player. He had a bigger reaching area like most of the better singles players, and that could cause serious problems if they tried and put him in a situation where he had to share a court with another person.

Kaidou, Kawamura and himself had the same problems, since they were all better at singles than doubles. Kawamura might be able to cooperate with the right partner, but it was clear that clashes would happen when they put two far-reaching singles players on the same side of the court and expect them to coordinate.

He suspected that it could be aptly passed off as disaster, Seigaku style.

Of course, they could try and get them to coordinate, but it would simply take too much effort. Interestingly enough, he found their inadequacy in doubles to be the driving force behind making the team stronger by each successive set of ranking matches. Everyone was trying to fit into the remaining doubles position while maintaining their fervor for the three singles positions.

Furthermore, competition between the four remaining singles players was high, as someone was always pushed out of the school team each time they had their ranking matches.

"We will get stronger."

Oishi turned and smiled, glad for his confidence. "I'm sure we will."

Inui turned back to the courts, knowing that the conversation had come to an end for the moment, at least.

A series of cheers went up from the crowd surrounding him when Tezuka scored two successive points, and he could see Atobe's supporters narrowing their eyes in annoyance. The diva himself appeared to be nonplussed by the consecutive scoring, and proceeded without haste to score point for point in return.

The sky was beginning to take on a dark purple hue, and the orange-red streaks of sunset were slowly being engulfed by the rapidly surfacing darkness. The lights illuminating the tennis courts were turned on, but the two figures moving on the brightly lit courts appeared to be unaffected by the fast approaching nightfall.

"Change court!"

Everyone watched as the two star players of their school team changed courts, and it was almost impossible to not notice the way they stopped briefly at the net to have a short conversation. Minutes later, Tezuka continued walking forward with an expressionless look, and Atobe did the same. It was difficult to tell if they were flushed from the game or from anger, but Inui knew that Atobe had a tendency to go deathly pale when angered.

The shuffling motions of some of the two players' supporters would have been amusing had everyone not been distracted by the game that just began.

"15-love! Atobe Keigo to serve."

Inui watched as the game progressed, and he knew instinctively that both players had upped the speed of their game despite their similar states of exhaustion. They would be reaching a tiebreak soon, and Ryuuzaki-sensei had wandered off a couple of games back for some personal matters, leaving no-one around to control the current match.

"Deuce!"

He wondered if anyone was going to be able to stop the inevitable. Oishi wouldn't dare get between the two, and no one else had any sort of authority to try to stop the captain from taking his rival to a point that was irrational.

This was PRACTICE, and they were TEAMMATES, Inui thought. The benefits of their rivalry were outweighed by the divisiveness it fostered. 

"Game, Atobe! 6 games to 5!"

Atobe smirked, his lips curling in a satisfied fashion. His hair was turned silver-white from the florescent lighting, and he took his position, waiting to receive Tezuka's serve.

Once upon a time, he would have taunted the other player, but the games between the two had become silent things, as the two communicated with raised eyebrows. 

Right now Atobe was confident, apparently convinced that he would be able to break Tezuka's final service game. Inui wasn't sure about that - it was true that Tezuka was rarely able to pull off his zerokshiki, his trump card, against Atobe, but Atobe's own specialty, the Hametsu e no Rondo, was something Tezuka was able to predict even more accurately than Inui himself.

They knew each other better than anyone else. Keep your friends close and enemies closer, Inui thought cynically.

"This is ridiculous," someone said, and Inui turned his head to see who had echoed his own thoughts.

Kikumaru? The redhead was watching the game with an expression of frustration on his face...

"Why hasn't buchou broken his serve yet?"

Ah. It had been too much to hope for sanity from someone else. It was frustrating to be the only member of the Seigaku team to see what was happening. No -- that wasn't true.

Fuji knew. Fuji just didn't care, as long as they won. He found the whole situation funny.

Inui tilted his head, trying to figure out a viable solution. He knew that Ryuuzaki-sensei wasn't happy, so she could be considered a potential ally... but neither of the two stubborn aces would listen to her.

Tezuka and Atobe were alike in all the wrong ways.

"Game, Tezuka! 6 games to 6!"

Silence. 

Inui felt everyone around the courts tense, waiting to see what they would do. Without Ryuuzaki-sensei there, would they...?

It was Tezuka who moved first, coming to the net. He held out his hand to Atobe.

Ah. Of course. Ryuuzaki-sensei had made a rule, and Tezuka, as captain, couldn't break it.

"Good game," he said quietly.

Atobe only hesitated for a moment, giving his own hand over for the briefest of clasps before retracting it. "You wouldn't have latest through the tie break."

"Hmm." Inui only saw Tezuka's eyebrow twitch briefly because he knew where to look. It was gone in a flash, and he doubted that most people had seen it.

Oishi. Fuji. Atobe. Himself. Those who knew the captain the best.

Atobe was satisfied, apparently, having once again irritated Tezuka, because he gave another brilliant smile. "Still, I suppose the game was adequate." Turning away, he walked over to where his supporters were gathered, accepting a towel from Kawamura, who said something to him with a concerned expression.

Inui watched the whole scene play out, as it had 100 times before. His fingers were tense against his notebook, and he tried to think of a solution, but no ideas were forthcoming.

Something had to give.

  
End: Prologue


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

  


  
"I just heard something interesting today, Keigo-chan."

Atobe glanced up from where he was tightening the laces of his tennis sneakers. To anybody who didn't know him well, his response could be read as cold, but to Fuji, who had known him for two years and understood the diva on a level many failed to reach... he was merely curious in a very mild manner.

Simply said - Atobe's opinion was: if the issue had to go through Fuji before reaching his ears, it probably wasn't very interesting or important.

"Hm?"

"A first year student gave Momo a hard time when we weren't around." Fuji's harmless smile had often been marked off as one of the most unlucky things a person could see the first thing in the morning.

"Hmmm." A slight pique of interest, as fleeting as it was rare. "Momoshiro's ankle is still injured from the match he had against... Tezuka. He could have been careless for all you know."

"Saa," Fuji turned from where he was facing the belonging's depositing shelves, all ready with his racket. "Maybe that was what happened."

The nonchalant shrug from Atobe would have driven anyone up the wall, but all the prodigy did was smile in return.

An easy smirk surfaced. "Ready for training?" Atobe tilted his head to one side and picked up his racket, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Always."

The noise which greeted them from the moment they entered the courts was almost flattering. Atobe's supporters cheered the loudest of all, Arai and his friends making triumphant faces at everyone. Fuji was standing next to Atobe, with Kawamura and Momoshiro standing a little further off, having caught up with the two upperclassmen only after they left the lockers. From a distance behind them were Oishi, Kikumaru and Kaidou. Inui lurked from even further down, and it was easy to identify that he was uninvolved with either group.

"...that's Seigaku alright! Look at how strong they are!"

"The regulars! The regulars are here!"

"...they're great..."

After the first years were given their tasks by Oishi and the regulars were spilt into teams to practice their serves, hurried whispers started up from the leftmost corner of the courts. Other than an extremely flashy-looking first year student standing at the sidelines crowing about his two years' worth of tennis experience, Fuji noticed a sullen-looking boy who stood a little further off, his cap pulled low.

Atobe noticed too, from the corner of his eyes as Arai approached the youth to have a brief conversation, only to start off for the loudmouth with a furious look. He glanced over to where Fuji was watching the same boy, and then raised an eyebrow elegantly.

"Do you have any idea what Arai is trying to accomplish?"

"Saa..."

The diva would have sighed and rolled his eyes, but he was obviously too dignified for such facial expressions. He kept the raised eyebrow, and became oddly somber when Fuji opened his eyes to watch the brewing commotion with a faint, humorless smile.

"...I think things might get a little heated up over here."

The moment something resembling a small brawl started at the side of the courts where Arai was standing, Atobe turned away and checked the tension of his racket strings in an almost nonchalant manner, knowing that someone would intervene before the situation became ridiculous.

"It's time for smashing practice!" Oishi called, turning the regulars' attention to him.

Atobe sighed in a long-suffering manner. Smashing into a crate of tennis balls wasn't his idea of a challenge, but he knew that keeping his basics in line was one of the keys to staying on his game. 

Fuji just looked over at him with that ever-present smile, obviously understanding Atobe's boredom. He nodded over at where Arai was standing with the first years, and to the perceptive Atobe, the message was clear.

_Just wait._

Atobe raised an eyebrow in reply, but went over to where Oishi stood on the opposite side of the net, waiting for the lob.

_Beautiful_, he thought as Oishi mistakenly lobbed the ball onto the opposite side of the court. Oishi winced as the ball went wide, but Atobe merely smiled. There was no better way to display his abilities than to do the nearly impossible. Atobe didn't have time to position himself beneath it the way he would have preferred, but that only made the game more interesting. With quick feet he raced to where the ball was descending, and leapt, arching his back as his eyes fastened on his target...

Dunk Smash!

His smash didn't have the same power as Momoshiro's did, but it was a hell of a lot more accurate. He smirked in satisfaction when the ball landed right in the center of the crate sitting right next to Oishi, dislodging the balls already stacked therein. 

As he landed on the ground, he smiled a bit, brushing his hair back with his free hand. "I hope all the first years know that I'm the best player on the team," he said. "It's such a pain to correct misconceptions."

He heard the whispers among the underclassmen with satisfaction, hearing the explanations that THAT was Atobe Keigo. It annoyed him that he was immediately compared to Tezuka, though.

He was better, dammit.

The problem was no one was quite sure since Ryuuzaki-sensei would never let them finish any games. He was sick and tired of swapping the first and second singles slot with the ice-for-blood Tezuka. The only reason _he_ wasn't captain was that Tezuka happened to be a bit luckier when Ryuuzaki-sensei had flipped the racket. And there was no way in hell he was ever going to be _that_ one's vice captain. No way was Atobe Keigo playing second fiddle to anyone.

Oishi blinked for a second before preparing to lob the ball to Kikumaru. He made another mistake, and the lob went totally off-course, flying over to where the first years were standing.

Atobe watched as the same sullen-eyed boy Fuji noticed moments ago lift his head to stare critically at the lob heading for him, eyes narrowed. The boy lifted his tennis racket just as the loudmouthed first year spoke up again, his voice strangely loud in the suddenly silent courts, pointing him out to Arai.

"The one who played Momoshiro-senpai was that kid over there. You see the guy with the cap?"

Even the diva found himself admiring the beautiful move the younger boy made as his feet lifted off the ground when he jumped to make a smash worthy of praise. The stray tennis ball was slammed back into the center of the crate beside Oishi, dislodging more balls when the crate shook and jumped from the impact.

"Hmmn. Interesting." Fuji's open-eyed grin was in a total class of its own for terrifying people.

"Indeed." Atobe raised an eyebrow in amusement, and then turned aside, waiting for practice to continue. His time was too precious to be wasted on paying attention to small fries who thought of impressing their seniors.

The boy who just performed the smash lifted his racket to rest it against his shoulder, a smirk surfacing. "Eh... it doesn't seem that hard."

Although it was obvious from the various reactions of the regulars that they were suitably amused, the second year students started getting rowdy again. Oishi's interested smile didn't escape Atobe's gaze, and he turned to Arai, giving the younger boy a warning look when the second year student reached for the other and opened his mouth to complain about the open display of skill from a first year student.

"A first year student, eh?"

Fuji only offered his usual 'harmless' smile, turning to face Atobe. "He's more than what meets the eyes."

"A show-off too, for one of his age." Atobe smirked, remembering what he was like during his first year in Seigaku. He then regarded the younger boy with a nonchalant look, pointing his tennis racket at the other in what most would find to be an intimidating gesture. "Name yourself."

The boy titled his head to one side as if in contemplation before lifting his head again. "Echizen Ryoma."

If Atobe noticed Fuji's inquisitive look at him for talking to a lowerclassman, he ignored it. The nonplussed look on Ryoma's face would have displeased anyone, but Atobe only appeared to be amused. A frown began to surface on Oishi's brow.

"Do you know who I am?"

Ryoma shrugged. "Yeah."

The same delicate, raised-eyebrow look surfaced again, suggesting that Ryoma actually hadn't known better by not showing him the respect he deserved for being the best on the team. "Well-"

"Atobe!" Oishi's slightly harassed voice snapped the tension building up on the courts and everyone started talking again.

Atobe only gave the vice-captain a lukewarm glance. "Ahh. Our boring practice calls, apparently."

There were a few twitters of nervous laughter at his off-hand comment.

Fuji had lost his smile, but when Atobe turned away, he took that to be a sign that his conversation with their first year upstart was over. The well-known prodigy of the team gave Ryoma a gentle smile. The one which everyone who had known him long enough refused to trust.

Kikumaru watched the whole scene with a slight frown. "This is so not good," he murmured. He knew he wasn't the most observant person, but the first year was in serious trouble, with Atobe deigning to actually notice him, and Fuji giving him _that_ smile.

Glancing over, he noticed Arai moving toward the first year student again, obviously intent on telling him that being such a show-off was not welcomed. Amusing, Kikumaru thought, since Arai was such a big fan of Atobe, who gave the word "show off" a whole new meaning. 

He opened his mouth to point out that the struggle was still ongoing to Oishi, who was just about to give a lob to Kaidou, when a cool voice cut through.

"What's going on here?"

Tezuka stood at the gate, wearing his usual stern expression, but anyone who had been in the club for any length of time could tell he was not amused by the fierce look he leveled on Arai, who had the freshmen by the collar.

"I was just-"

"Twenty laps, each of you!"

"But-" Arai's dark eyes flashed as he glared at the freshmen, whom he let slip out of his hands. Ryoma took a moment to straighten his shirt before studying the famed Seigaku captain with curiously unintimidated eyes.

"Thirty, Arai. I don't tolerate rule breaking. Freshmen, get ready for ball collection. Regulars, on A and B court, everyone else, C and D court," Tezuka continued in his usual uncompromising way. 

It was a scene most of them were well-used to. Tezuka was almost always forcing someone to run, and the constant pounding of feet around the court was as common a sound during practice as the rhythm of tennis balls bouncing off the pavements. Arai gave Tezuka a defiant look, but obediently started on his laps after a second, the freshmen following wordlessly at his heels.

Oishi put his racket away and came over to the leader of the club. Pulling him aside, they started off for the buildings.

"Sheesh. Isn't he going to stay for practice?" Momoshiro asked. He was heading to A-court, along with Fuji and Atobe, but his eyes lingered on where Oishi and Tezuka had vanished. The second year seemed a bit put out at the fact Tezuka only showed up long enough to yell.

"He's got other business to do. He's the captain," Kaidou said. "Respect your elders."

Momoshiro sniffed. "I do."

"You were just rude to Tezuka-buchou."

"Was not!" Momoshiro denied, knowing that outright rudeness to the captain of the Seigaku Tennis Team wasn't allowed. "You're lousy at reading people, mamushi!"

"What'd you just call me?" Kaidou leaned over from B court, where he was standing on the same side of the net as Kikumaru, apparently forgetting that he was supposed to be playing tennis in favor of antagonizing his rival.

"And it starts," Fuji said. "What was our bet?" 

"I said they'd managed to keep it together until at least after the first practice, trying to impress the first years. You said it'd be sooner."

"I win." Fuji's smile seemed to glow with pleasure at the thought. Betting with Atobe was fun, because Atobe was actually able to win sometimes.

"The first part of the bet," Atobe agreed easily. "Now the question is... does Tezuka show up in time to keep them from clubbing each other with rackets?"

"Yes. They haven't been able to go after each other in the last two months because of him," Fuji replied, tilting his head. "They have another minute of insults, by which time Tezuka will have hastened back here because he doesn't trust us alone, not without Oishi. I think Tezuka's streak is going to continue."

"Not this time," Atobe said, watching Momoshiro indulgently. "Our favorite dunk smash hothead is about to completely lose it."

Fuji smiled, obviously amused. "We shall see, ne?"

Almost as if on cue, the volume of the two second year students' voices appeared to rise by several notches.

"Who said I make stupid mistakes all the time?!" Momoshiro and Kaidou had closed in on each other, and were head-butting in a manner that was reminiscent of two bulls in a mating fight.

"I said it. Because you ARE stupid." Kaidou's voice was a low growl, but the spiky-haired boy refused to back down.

"You are being ridiculous!" Momoshiro pushed forward, fists clenched in anger. "How dare you accuse me-"

"Stop being an irritating idiot on the courts!" At this, Kaidou had grabbed hold of the other boy's jersey, pulling him close in an intimidating posture. The effect would have been better if he was taller than the other. "You're causing trouble for Tezuka-buchou!"

"You're a good one to say that! Who's the one who started making stupid jibs?"

The prodigy grinned. "It's always fun when things get lively around here."

"Of course," The smirk Atobe gave in return was infamous. "Never a single dull moment, here at Seigaku. We're known for that - and watch. They're going to start swinging their rackets any moment now."

Fuji noticed Kikumaru giving Atobe a dirty look, but gave the doubles player a smile in return for his effort. Inui appeared to be detached from the whole chaos going on in the courts the regulars were using, marking him out as the only neutral member on their disorganized team.

The boy who had identified himself as Ryoma gave a small snort and turned back to his run. 

"I was told that this is the best school to attend for tennis. Looks like the stupid old man is wrong."

"Watch your mouth, Echizen! You don't want to offend anymore seniors around here!" The nervous warning from Horio - who was standing near the fence and had caught Ryoma's stray comment- only managed to elicit a wordless and nonchalant glance from the other first year student. "Seigaku is the BEST!"

The steady sound of feet pounding on concrete accompanied the boy's nonplussed reply. "Yeah. At arguing, apparently."

"And I win." Atobe smirked, watching as Kaidou and Momoshiro started swinging their rackets at each other in a semi-serious attempt to hurt.

"You said clubbing each other, ne?" Fuji's innocent smile was just as bad as his harmless version.

Atobe shrugged, his amused smirk still in place. "It's all the same. They're out for each other's blood and there's no Tezuka to stop them. You'll be paying for the drinks tonight, Syuusuke."

"Hai-hai, Keigo-chan."

"...people like HIM cultivate disharmony in the club, nya." Kikumaru's voice was clear above the noise building up on the courts.

"Eiji-senpai!" Momoshiro's instantaneous protest was loud enough to make everyone pause.

"I don't want to talk to you now, Momo."

"But Eiji-senpai-!"

It was no small news that although Momoshiro was loyal to Atobe in the same way Kaidou was loyal to Tezuka, he was still fond of the acrobatic player. Despite the fact that he appreciated Atobe's style and flair, there were still times where the diva made him uneasy. Furthermore, what had strengthened his resolve to follow Atobe had been Kaidou eventual decision to follow Tezuka.

Atobe didn't mind that Momoshiro was attached to Kikumaru since that attachment did nothing to sway the latter's loyalty to him. Furthermore, if everyone on his side of the team was only able to agree with him blindly, things would get stale very quickly. There were reasons why Fuji was his best friend while Tezuka wasn't. There was something fascinating about being around someone who even Atobe's legendary insight couldn't predict, and it was a heady feeling to know that Fuji respected him.

Atobe, of course, lived for that kind of respect. Awe at his skill was given to him by those less gifted, as was his due, but when someone who was as talented as Fuji recognized his brilliance... that was what it was all about.

It was too bad Tezuka was too stubborn to admit the truth.

He tapped the gut of his racket thoughtfully, losing interest as Momo and Kaidou continued to quarrel now that he had won the bet. He could have predicted the script as easily as he predicted his opponent's play on the court, and frankly it had gotten old.

Fuji smiled, recognizing the fact that Atobe's attention was about to wander away. He understood quite well; once a situation was completely understood, it was time to move onto something more stimulating.

Sidling closer, the tensai narrowed the distance between them so they couldn't be overheard. "Tezuka's probably preparing the ranking tournament schedule right now. Feel like another bet?"

Atobe looked interested. "Taka's due to make a comeback, I think. So who's off?"

Fuji stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You, me, and Tezuka will all be in separate blocks. Oishi and Kikumaru, too, since they wouldn't dare let the Golden Pair eliminate itself. That leaves Inui, Kaidou and Momoshiro."

"And Taka."

"And Taka-san, but I agree. He wants to come back, and I think he will. Unless he's in an uneven block, but I don't think Tezuka would do that. He's usually pretty fair."

Atobe laughed at the idea. "He's so fair he's going to shoot himself in the foot and I'm hope I'm there to watch."

"That's not very nice," Fuji said neutrally.

"Everyone says I'm not a very nice person." The diva gave a glittering smile, showing that he didn't care.

"It's more fun to prove them wrong, though. Still who's out?" Fuji asked. "And what's the wager?"

"The loser has to do the winner's homework for a week," Atobe said, knowing that the teachers wouldn't notice. Both he and Fuji got top marks effortlessly. Atobe watched the team as Ryoma came back to the club after completing his laps. "I say two of them are out Kaidou and Momo. Tezuka's going to let the first year try out, and he'll make it."

Fuji blinked, genuinely surprised. "First years aren't allowed to play until after the summer training camp."

"Tezuka will make an exception. He remembers what it was like, being a first year underneath less talented senpai."

Fuji wanted to argue that Tezuka wouldn't do anything to disrupt his tenuous control over the club, but looking over at Atobe, he wondered. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"If the first year is strong enough to win a block, yes. He won't beat any of us, so he'll probably be the substitute, which might teach him some humility." Looking over at where the first year was about to square off against Arai again, he grinned. "I think he could use it."

"You think someone needs humility?"

"He needs to realize he's no where near my level," Atobe huffed in an affronted voice. 

Fuji would have said more, but Tezuka and Oishi appeared from the classroom blocks, heads still lowered in conversation. He shot Atobe a look, but the diva didn't appear to be concerned with the fact that his supporters were going to be sent on another twenty laps around the school again.

The mocking smile on Atobe's face would be marked off as cruel by many who didn't know him well. "Here comes trouble."

"Ahh." Fuji turned way from the sight of Tezuka and Oishi carefully, staring at the three second year students who were going to be given punishment soon. "They never learn, do they?"

"Well, things would get boring if they learn too fast, don't you think? Our _buchou_ needs his daily dosage of things to worry over. Withdrawal might set in if he goes without at least a frown on a daily basis."

Fuji gave a faint smile. "Maa, Keigo-chan-"

"Momo! Kaidou!" Oishi's more than slightly distraught voice halted the two boys, and Kaidou actually looked embarrassed for losing control of his temper.

The dunk smash player rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish look, immediately apologizing to the vice-captain. The look on Tezuka's face was displeased, and it was almost impossible to miss the way he glanced over at Atobe. The diva only tilted his head to one side and smirked, knowing that it wasn't his problem if people underneath him wanted to have brawls like little schoolchildren. After all, he wasn't the captain. It wasn't his problem, even.

Now if he was captain, it would be a totally different issue, but... Atobe snorted and did a few swings distractedly.

"Twenty laps. Now!"

The cringe on Momoshiro's face was amusing. In fact, Atobe liked the younger boy well enough to accept the way he toed the lines with both sides of the team. It was an honest fact that Momoshiro, like all other boys of his age, liked it when people were fond of him. Atobe could understand that. And the fact that his eventual choice laid with Atobe showed that he knew how to enjoy life-- something Atobe would forgive him for easily enough.

Obviously, there were also people who didn't know how to enjoy life around -at this, Atobe glanced at Tezuka's stoic face with a nonchalant shrug- but he certainly wasn't one of those people.

Too bad for them.

"Ne, Syuusuke."

"Hm?" The prodigy turned over to where Atobe was returning a lob Oishi delivered.

"I can't wait for the ranking matches to start." The cheerful grin on Atobe's face was an uncommon sight, one which he would only share with Fuji, actually. "One week of homework, remember?"

Fuji gave a cheerful smile in reply. "You might not be so lucky the next time, Keigo-chan."

"Atobe! Pay attention when we're practicing!" Tezuka's low voice echoed across the courts from where he was standing beside the gate watching the regulars practice.

The prodigy could tell that Atobe was displeased with the open reprimand from the frown he wore, and it made him wonder about what Tezuka was thinking of, sometimes. It wasn't as if he a biased person. Fuji liked him well enough, but he only liked him in the way one was fond of one's captain. He admired Tezuka's farsight and his skills as a leader was irrefutable. It didn't stop him from siding with Atobe though.

It was very simple, actually.

Life was always far more interesting with Atobe around.

  
End: Chapter 1

Extra Notes!:  
Please take note that the Tenipuri boys are currently in senior high, not junior high as per the original timeline for the anime/manga series. ^_^ We're bumping up their ages so that things can get more fun!


	3. Chapter 2

  
Chapter 2 

It began simply, as most things that were complicated did.

It began with an accidental meeting, a neglected apology, and a bruised ego - or egos. They both knew that the reason they disliked each other so much was that they saw what they most disliked about themselves in the other.

It began quickly, and grew beyond either of their control. One day, their rivalry would engulf the entire tennis team.

It began on the first day of school.

The sound of school bells sung in the April air, reminding students that a new term was about to start. Atobe adjusted the collar of his uniform, ran a hand through his hair to assure himself it was as perfect as ever, and smiled at a girl who was shyly looking at him through long eyelashes as he neared the gates of Seishun Gakuen.

It was time to enter his stage, he knew. Glancing at the clock, he quickened his step, determined not to be late on his first day - it may be fashionable to make a late entry, but that wasn't sensible for school. Later, when he had proven his abilities, he would be able to ignore the demands of someone else's schedule. But for now, there were rules to be played by. One had to know the rules well before they could be broken. Atobe knew this, and intended to live by it. 

Still, as the cool breeze brushed through his hair, he wondered how long it would take to build a suitable following. He had one in elementary school, but none of his friends had gone to Seigaku, deciding it was too far away to bother. So for now, Atobe was adrift, without any close acquaintances. That situation would need to be rectified immediately. What use was there in being as good as he was if he had no one to admire him for it? 

Perhaps fate had a hand in that day, because the first person Atobe Keigo ran into - literally - was Tezuka Kunimitsu, the boy who was destined to become his constant rival. 

Atobe turned a corner quickly, just in time to be broadsided by another person.

If it had been a movie, they would have sent each other stumbling to the ground, or locked eyes and realized their predestined importance to the other. Instead, they stopped and stared at each other, Atobe a bit annoyed, while the other boy's expression was neutral. He had been hit hard, with most of the impact landing on his right shoulder, the one that he needed so badly when he played. The other had taken the brunt of the collision square in the chest, and seemed a bit ruffled, but his blank face gave no clue as to his real feelings.

The situation had to be handled carefully, Atobe knew, since first impressions were lasting impressions. The other boy was relatively tall, but Atobe's eyes noticed he wore the pin on his collar indicating he was only a first year. Light brown eyes, bright with intelligence, regarded him from behind wire-frame glasses, and Atobe would have been quick to dismiss him as a nerd, had he not been clutching a tennis bag.

Ah. Perfect.

"Tennis players need to pay attention to where they're going," he said smoothly, staring at the other boy with a bit of pity.

"Definitely," the other boy said, his eyes sliding to the bag that Atobe himself held, the implication quite clear.  
  
He paused, eyes narrowing almost shrewdly. "Some more so than others, apparently."

The other boy glanced away, nonchalant. "It may be a good lesson to all."

After that day, Atobe swore to remember that boy.

He later found out the other's name - Tezuka Kunimitsu - when he joined the tennis club and saw the very same boy standing together with the other first year students. He guessed that it was by some strange stroke of luck that he ended up in the class beside the annoying boy's. The fact that the other's class was just beside his gave him little comfort, but he was sure that the days to come would begin to prove just how good the other was.

He talked with a type of confidence few found in first year students. Usually, these were either frauds with two years or so of tennis playing experience, or they would be egotistical and pompous idiots who thought that they ranked above the rest with just a good serve or return. But there were also some very rare instances where such people were actually talented beyond belief.

He would bet on the latter, actually. Tezuka didn't look careless enough to be a fraud.

As time went by, he was right about the other's level of expertise in tennis playing. He didn't think he had underestimated the obviously rude person, but he was pleasantly surprised to be told that the other was a junior tennis champion within his region. He had never seen Tezuka before, and if that was the case, he must have been keeping a pretty low profile on the national level.   
  
Atobe was sure that very few people could match him game for game, which was why he insisted on making everyone understand where he stood during practices. This made him increasingly unpopular with the older students, and despite the fact that they tried to make his life miserable, he wasn't without a following to back him up. They must realize that he was good and accept that as a fact of life, Atobe believed. Some would always rise to the top, which meant others would have to sink.

The moment he marked off Tezuka as someone he had to watch out for and challenge constantly, he noticed someone else.

Someone who appeared to be small and weak, but possessed a personality far more sly than what most would think. Atobe admired the other's wit and intelligence, admired his carefully polite nature and harmless appearance. He watched the other and understood that he was a prodigy like himself, but he was one who lacked ambition and drive.

Fuji Syuusuke.

"You are good." Atobe chose to speak to the younger boy sometime after practice, his familiar smirk already in place. "I think you can become better, but you don't have the interest for it."

"Ehh?" The innocently curious look the other gave would have fooled anyone, but Atobe saw right through it.

"But it's okay. I don't really care about how you want to play your game."

"Ahh-"

Atobe didn't even wait for the other's reply. "I think we can get along. Or I can get along with you, at least. So it's alright if I call you Syuusuke, ne?"

Fuji appeared to think about his suggestion for a moment before replying with a bright smile. "Only if you let me call you Keigo-chan."  
  
The sheer impertinence of the reply had surprised a laugh from Atobe.

One other person became important to Atobe in those first few weeks, though not because of his tennis skills. Kawamura Takashi would have ways to go before he would rate the attention of anyone on the court, but Atobe liked him for a different reason.

In class, Atobe was used to people hanging on his every word, agreeing with whatever he said. The problem was that most of them didn't really take the time to think on what he was saying - annoying at best, insulting at worst. It was frustrating to speak to lumps of wood, and have nothing sink in.

But Kawamura listened.

They were in the same class, and the boy tended toward being on the quiet side, which Atobe rather enjoyed. He would politely think on what Atobe would say, asking intelligent questions at the right point to show that things had really registered. He was content to do most of what he was told, not fighting the system at all, but that was okay. Atobe liked followers, but he preferred them to be intelligent followers.

The boy was a bit strange, Atobe had to admit. It had surprised him, the first time they were allowed on the courts to play informal matches, and Kawamura had picked up a racket to head off against another freshmen.

"Come on, baby! I'm BURNING!" he yelled, earning puzzled looks from those around him. His face was intense and flushed, and he looked ready to rip someone apart.

It was one of the few times Atobe had honestly been taken aback. Fuji, who had been his partner, stared at Kawamura with an amused expression on his face.

"Any idea?" he asked.

Fuji shook his head, but continued to watch the developing scene without a verbal reply.

Kawamura glared at the other freshmen - Atobe would later learn his name was Kikumaru - and dragged him off to the court.

"Mind if we wait a moment? I think this is going to be worth seeing," Atobe said.

"I'd like to watch as well," Fuji admitted.

It was Kawamura's first serve that took Atobe's breath away. There was little control to it, but it was powerful, strong enough that he saw the potential for a power player to emerge from his usually laid back classmate.

"In a year..." Atobe said. He touched his chin absentmindedly, thinking on the possibilities. Kawamura needed coaching, but Ryuuzaki Sumire was the best.

Fuji nodded. "Next year's team is going to be very good."

"That's assuming you decide to start taking tennis seriously."

Fuji blinked, giving his best "who, me?" expression, looking genuinely innocent to anyone who didn't know him.

Still, they were concerned about the present year, and the current captain, Yamato-buchou, was a good leader, but resigned to the fact that his club just wasn't good enough to make it out of Kantou. Seigaku was a legendary tennis club, but after he had been defeated by two incoming first years, he had seen the writing on the wall.

Other members weren't so accepting. Most of their resentment fell, naturally enough, on Atobe Keigo, the flashiest of the newcomers, who wasn't ashamed to admit his skills. If you have it, flaunt it, was one of his beliefs.

And he had it. They didn't.  
  
Therefore, he saw no reason why they would want to pick on him. Maybe, it was all out of envy or jealousy. Furthermore, they must be annoyed to find him with a following, since he was still a year one student and his attitude actually didn't manage to put a lot of people at ease. At best, they would become smitten with his prima donna attitude and follow him blindly. At worst, they would hate him with a type of vengeance which only those who were truly jealous and dark of heart could achieve.

Some called him an arrogant bastard. Others called him the diva. The only person whom he wanted acknowledgement from refused to pay him the due respects. Granted, the other was almost as good as him. That was probably his only saving grace. He wasn't particularly interesting and he was mostly quiet. This meant that he would be an absolutely boring person, had he not been good at tennis.

Atobe had no time for insipid idiots.

That was also about the time when conflicts started to occur. They were small events at first, hardly noticeable and immensely private affairs between the both of them. But gradually, the effect of their rivalry began to widen its circle, causing more and more people to be dragged in, willingly or not.

Someone once said that it had to stop somewhere. Atobe didn't really care, since it was none of his business how the rivalry affected the people around him. Furthermore, Tezuka was the one who asked for trouble, not him. He was being perfectly civil when he asked the other if he was, perhaps, having problems with human interaction.

Ahh, some people simply love to misunderstand his good intentions.

"Keigo-chan," Fuji's soft, slightly lilting voice was becoming increasingly familiar to the diva. "Let's do something interesting."

He raised an eyebrow out of curiosity. "And that will be?"

"Let's make a bet."

There were signs of a smirk being born. "On?"

"Tezuka."

"Oh?" A full smirk was turned on. "What could be possibly interesting about him to bet over?"

Fuji gave a slightly secretive smile. "Kikumaru-kun just told me something amusing the other day."

Although Kikumaru and Fuji were in the same class and they had a rather close relationship, nothing could beat what the prodigy shared with Atobe. Theirs was a special relationship cultivated on trust and mutual benefits, with daily entertainment being one of them. Fuji didn't mind following Atobe either. The latter was interesting enough to actually say and do things which most normal leaders wouldn't. Furthermore, he was unafraid of Fuji.

That was actually one important criterion for Fuji when he chose friends. If they cower before him, then they were better off being the subjects of his entertainment. He liked preys which struggled, but he also preferred friends who were able to make intelligent conversations. Not to mention attempting to outguess him. That was one hell of a fun activity to try out with his friends.

Atobe's droll look was getting increasingly famous. "Please don't tell me that Tezuka had grown a new pair of wings or discovered that the universe is located in his-"

"Of course not, Keigo-chan."  
  
Atobe thought for a moment, wondering what bombshell Kikumaru could have dropped that would be worth bringing to his attention. If it was something interesting about Tezuka, it had to be about tennis. Nothing else was worth bothering with, really. And if Kikumaru found out, it was probably something Oishi had told him. Oishi who hung on Tezuka's every word, who followed like a puppy.

Oishi Syuuchiroh wasn't one of the people Atobe outright disliked, but he wasn't fond of him. The boy was too serious, too mothering, and had absolutely no sense of humor, as far as he could tell. He fit naturally enough with Tezuka, which was fine with Atobe, but he also had recently begun to play as a doubles' pair with Kikumaru.

Tangled webs, indeed.

He became aware of Fuji waiting patiently for his guess again, and knew that Fuji would be perfectly content to wait until the world ended and beyond. He cocked an eyebrow, curious in spite of himself. "What's the bet?"

Fuji's lips curled, and his face suddenly resembled that of a picture Atobe had seen - a picture of an angel praying in the midst of a battlefield, his serenity at strange odds with the chaos and bloodshed around him. Fuji was like that - always out of whack with his surroundings, somehow pristine and untouched despite being intimately involved.

"Did you know... Tezuka is left handed?" Fuji asked curiously.

Atobe blinked once, trying to process the information. He had seen Tezuka play, frighteningly competent and able to stand up against any third year, including the captain himself, but even he hadn't noticed that the other boy had been holding back that much. Ryuuzaki hadn't let them play, yet, and he had been looking forward to the chance of putting the other boy in his place, but...

Well, for once in his life, Atobe Keigo was floored - and concerned about the outcome. He hadn't played all of his trump cards, either, but to play with his opposite hand constantly, Tezuka had to be obscenely confidant in his skills.

"Interesting," Atobe said after a moment, suddenly too aware of how closely Fuji was regarding him. It wouldn't due to become the next item on "Fuji Syuusuke's List of Entertainment," and Atobe quickly wondered about the repercussions of Tezuka's actions.

"The senpai aren't going to be very happy with him when they figure it out," Atobe mused, and had he been the type, he would have bit his lip thoughtfully at that moment - but doing so would have marred his appearance.

Perfection in all things. He wouldn't admit it, but he and Tezuka had too much in common.

Fuji's eyes opened, startling and blue. He leaned back against the fence, his voice lowering a bit. "Of course not. The question is, when will they?"

Atobe smirked, feeling his old self return after the startling revelations of what his would-be rival was hiding. "They'll find out when Tezuka and I finally are put up against each other. I'll make him use his left hand, and he'll still lose."

Fuji thought on that for a moment. "It'll happen before. And... it's not going to be pretty."  
  
The other boy appeared to be honestly keen on the bet. "What's the wager?"

"A week of classroom cleaning duties."

Atobe grinned, obviously confidant that he would win. "Deal."

The prodigy won his very first bet weeks later during practice, when lowerclassmen were allowed to practice with the non-regular seniors. Apparently, Fuji and Atobe weren't the only ones who found out about Tezuka's ambidextrous ability. A nasty-looking second student called Takeshi had narrowed in on Tezuka the moment he was available for a match, then proceeded to throw a fit when the younger boy refused to use his left hand to play.

"If you're not going to use that arm of yours, then you might as well not have it!" He prepared to swing a racket, obviously intent on doing Tezuka serious bodily damage. Everyone had frozen in shock, unable to believe what was unfolding in front of them.

"He's trying to save you some face by not playing with his left hand, can't you see?" Despite himself, Atobe couldn't help pointing out the silliness of the situation. In the tensed situation on the courts, the diva was the only one who dared to speak.

"Who are you to say that?" Takeshi whirled around to stare at the other boy instead, Tezuka momentarily forgotten. "Are you better than me then? Is that what you're suggesting?"

"You'll never be able to reach our level." Atobe shrugged nonchalantly, his racket held loosely in his right hand.

"You-!"

"Takeshi!" Another second year student standing beside the furious boy caught hold of his arm, nervous and worried. "Let's not cause any trouble on the courts."

"I want to have a game with you, brat!"

The self-confident smirk on Atobe's face would have put any of the first year students off, but the older boy obviously didn't know better. "That'll be alright, I think. Since things are getting boring around here anyway."

The quiet look Tezuka gave him before he began his match against the upperclassman made him smirk again, wanting to show the other boy just how good he was. Atobe Keigo wasn't someone to be slighted in the least bit, and it was high time some of the arrogant seniors get that fact registered in their brains.

His day ended in victory, of course, and he trounced the older boy easily, leaving behind a despairing wreck on the tennis courts when he left the place, face flushed and smiling widely. Fuji appeared to share his amusement at the combined plights of the other students. It wasn't out of cruelty or arrogance. It was the sadist in the closed-eyed prodigy who agreed with Atobe's way of torturing people who deserved trouble for opening their mouths before thinking.

The both of them met Tezuka again later in the locker room, the bespectacled boy already preparing to go home. He didn't stay around the courts long enough to finish watching the match, something which miffed Atobe greatly. But it was impossible to deny the fact that Atobe actually saved him from further trouble with the seniors by speaking up.

Before Tezuka stepped out of the locker room, he paused at the doorway and glanced back at the diva, who was changing out of his tennis jersey.

"What you have done wasn't necessary."

"Ahh, but I did something good, didn't I?" Atobe was feeling extremely pleased at the turn of events.

The other boy appeared to pause for a moment, then spoke up again, distant and filled with stubborn pride. "Do not expect me to be grateful to you for doing something foolish. You are endangering not just yourself but the other first year students there as well."

Atobe shrugged, keeping away his jersey and picking up the racket bag. "To be honest, I'm not expecting you to be grateful."  
  
Tezuka gave him another one of those unreadable expressions that he was so good at. "Then what are you expecting?"  
  
Atobe smirked, glancing down as he adjusted his grip on his bag. Tezuka stood patiently, and it was odd to know that for once the other boy was completely focused on him.  
  
It was a heady feeling, more thrilling than all the cheers he got from others whenever he played. "I think you know, don't you? If you can't figure it out, you're not worth my time."  
  
Tezuka's fingers came up as he adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Who says I want to figure it out?" he asked, and quickly left.  
  
Fuji watched the whole scene, blinking a bit after Tezuka's subtle insult. "The kitten has claws," he murmured, coming to stand beside Atobe.  
  
Tezuka hadn't struck Atobe as the type to give casual insults, and instead of taking offense, he decided to take it as a compliment that Tezuka's facade of perfection would crack enough to throw out such a snappy remark. "Yes, but kittens get eaten in the real world. I'm wondering if he's really a sleeping lion."  
  
"You want to wake him up?" Fuji asked curiously.  
  
"If I left him alone, it'd be boring. Besides, I have to make it quite clear to everyone who the strongest person in the club is - and that's me."

  
End: Chapter 2 


	4. Chapter 3

  
  
Chapter 3

Echizen Ryoma was rather unhappy with how his first few days of school had gone. He was justifiably proud of his tennis skills, and after figuring out that his father's alma mater, Seishun Gakuen, was really a good tennis school, he'd been intending on entering and shaking things up.

That hadn't happened. Somewhere, he'd screwed up. 

He'd managed to impress the rest of his classmates after beating Arai at the tip-the-can game, and had Momoshirou's attention as well, but when he'd come to the first day of real practice, he'd found, much to his disgust, that it was harder to get hold of the attention of everyone else.

They seemed focused on the supposedly invincible captain - or on the other player who might be as good as Tezuka Kunimitsu - Atobe Keigo. They called him the diva, and the name fit, from what little Ryoma had seen of him. Ryoma had met a lot of players with huge egos over his career (and many people accused him of having a rather sizable one himself) but Atobe took it to new levels. He had a fan club, encouraged them, and seemed intent on undermining the captain at every turn.

Usually Ryoma would have been amused, but right now he just needed to prove that yes, he was that much better. If he was ever going to beat his old man, he had to take out everyone else, since Echizen Nanjirou was so much damn better than anyone else.

The problem, though, was that Ryoma couldn't decide who to focus on. Atobe? Tezuka? Someone else? Who the hell was the best in Seigaku, anyway? No one seemed able to agree, and it made the first year want to strangle something - or at least smack them with numerous tennis balls until they couldn't see straight.

He thought it would be kind of pointless to ask any of the members in the team, until he chanced upon Inui, one of the regulars and a renowned data collector. If one watched the proceedings on the courts long enough, one would realize that Inui was always either out of both groups or standing somewhere in between. He didn't appear to side with either leader, and he always made sure to associate with parties from either side for a small amount of time. So he took his chance one day, approaching the older boy when he was standing under the shade by the tennis courts watching the non-regulars train.

"Ne, senpai," Ryoma began, keeping his head lowered and racket tucked underneath his arm. "Who's the best in Seigaku? I know that Tezuka-buchou and Atobe-senpai are both very strong... but who's better?"

The older boy raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. "You're curious to know?"

"Yes," the shorter boy glanced up at Inui, eyes burning bright. "I want to play against the best in Seigaku."

Inui smiled. "Ahh, doesn't everyone want to do that?"

Ryoma frowned. "No-"

"Inui?" A soft, lilting voice interrupted the boys' conversation.

Both turned to stare at Fuji, who was standing just a meter away from them. Neither had noticed the other's presence, and they certainly weren't aware of how long Fuji had been standing there behind them listening to their conversation.

Inui tilted his head to one side. "Ah, Fuji. I thought there is no practice for the regulars today?"

Fuji approached both boys, smiling sweetly. "Maa, that's true, but Keigo-chan wants to do some strength training today so I'm staying back to help him."

Ryoma watched the slightly strange exchange with half an interest, annoyed that one of Atobe's lackeys had appeared to disrupt his conversation with Inui. Fuji appeared to notice his displeasure and smiled, turning to peer at the younger boy with a gentle smile on his face.

"Ne... you're called Echizen, right?" The smile widened.

The younger boy didn't bother to look at Fuji. "Nn."

"How do you find the practices lately? Arai really shouldn't have lost his temper with you, but saa... I guess it can't be helped. He's always been short-tempered. Also, Tezuka might be a little tough on the both of you, but it's for your own good."

There was a curious glance from the younger boy. "Fuji-senpai, I thought you are the Monke-Atobe-senpai's best friend?"

Fuji's smile brightened. "Oh, I am."

The data tennis player started glancing between both boys with a slightly confused look. "Eh, Fuji-"

"So why are you putting forward good words for buchou then? I thought Atobe-senpai hates buchou... or it looks like that from the way they were behaving around each other." Ryoma adjusted his cap, revealing only one eye to stare at Fuji insolently.

The older boy appeared to be genuinely amused. "Because Tezuka _is_ a good leader."

"Heh..." Ryoma tilted his head one side in contemplation. "So, who do you think is the best on the team then?"

Inui started up before the younger boy could finish his sentence. "Ah. Echizen, actually-"

"Maa, it's alright." Fuji beamed at the taller data tennis player, watching the other twitch for his efforts. He turned back to the younger boy, his smile turning increasingly friendly. "I'll say, Echizen, that it all depends on who has a better breakfast in the morning."

Ryoma just gave him a steady look, trying to decide if the third year was being serious or not. Inui's sharp glance at Fuji made him wonder, but Fuji was already moving onto other matters. "I should get going. Keigo-chan is probably waiting, and he's never happy about that." The smile that curved his lips was perfectly pleasant, but for some reason Ryoma felt like someone was dancing on his grave. "I hope you're in my block, Echizen."

Inui's pen, which had been scribbling furiously, came to an abrupt stop. "First years aren't-"

"Oh, that's right," Fuji said, and his expression of disappointment seemed genuine. "Well, you should be allowed to have some practice matches soon. Maybe then?" He waggled his fingers cheerfully as he vanished, disappearing as quietly as he had arrived.

Inui shook his pen, apparently having run out of ink. As he changed pens, he glanced over at the first year to gauge his response.

Ryoma looked... annoyed.

"Don't underestimate him, Echizen," Inui warned. "He's the number three player, right behind Atobe and Tezuka.

"Hmm," Ryoma murmured, before turning away toward the tennis club.

Inui opened a new notebook, created the night before, and began to fill it in with information relating to Ryoma. If Fuji thought he was going to play in the ranking tournament, then chances were, he would. Fuji was rarely wrong. That meant Tezuka would be making an exception to his precious rules for Ryoma. Interesting, and certainly worthy of note, if it happened. Tezuka lived by his rule book, since he apparently seemed to think it was the only thing that provided any sanity when dealing with the variety of personalities in the tennis club. It was... thrilling.

Inui wouldn't be so thrilled once the ranking matches came down to business.

Ryoma didn't really care about that. He just wanted to thoroughly defeat all of his opponents, and that included his senpai. He needed to get on the team, true, but he could care less if there was anything exceptional about allowing him to try.

He was used to blowing people out of the water. It was nothing new.

The next day, blocks were announced for ranking matches, and few people were happy with the results. Atobe, Tezuka, and Fuji had been separated, along with the Golden Pair, but it was the presence of the first year which had the second years riled. Tezuka, though, seemed to let the comments of favoritism and unfairness wash over him, which led many to turn to Atobe for justice. Atobe had listened to their complaints patiently, before giving them a look which let them know he was thoroughly disappointed. "If the first year is good enough to win, then he deserves to be on the regulars. Just beat him, and that's the end of that."

Easy for him to say, they thought, but there was a certain elegant simplicity to the solution, they all had to admit.

Atobe, though, was annoyed at his own block, which was unfairly loaded: himself, Momoshiro, Kawamura. Having two regulars and one former regular in the same block meant the competition would be fierce, which wasn't a problem, but he didn't like the fact that Tezuka had just guaranteed that Atobe would be without one of his followers. He would win, no doubt, but one of the power players would take the other out.

It would be such a pity, considering that the Golden Pair practically had a permanent position on the team like himself. Of course, Fuji would stay on the team. He wasn't the third best player on their team in name only. Now... He had noticed that Kawamura was being extremely zealous with his training of late, and he suspected that it was just about time for him to make a spectacular comeback.

The first years were all going to be scared out of their wits by the power player, but it was for the best of the team, he thought.

This meant that he would win the bet.

He had wagered on Momoshiro and Kaidou, when the cut came for the regulars. The way the blocks had been rigged meant that either Momoshiro or Kawamura would be going -- it was a pity they hadn't known it when they had laid their bets.

Fuji had chosen Inui instead of Kaidou, for some peculiar reason he refused to name. He was sure that he would win, all the same. Although the prodigy was pretty good at outguessing him, there were occasions where he slipped, and Atobe had the gut feeling that this would be one of those times. It would be such a pity to drop Inui from the team, especially with the tournaments drawing near. Inui was a purposely neutral player on all accounts-- not that it was a bad thing, since they do need people around to see what was happening for themselves and not through the tinted visions of the respective biased members.

Atobe didn't mind if people were to accuse him of being proud and disgustingly selfish.

He knew that there were grains of truth in those accusations. What he didn't like was when people automatically assumed Tezuka to be good in response to his bad. That would be called stereotyping. Everyone was often so blinded by their captain that none of them ever dared to think that the other was wrong. It made him all the more gleeful to see Tezuka make the decision of putting Ryoma into the ranking matches and bearing the prejudice of everyone who thought that it wasn't fair. Admittedly, Tezuka had done the right thing, since the value of talent within their team was something everyone wanted desperately.

They were due for the nationals this time, he was sure. Ever since what happened last year at the Kantou finals-- no. Just thinking about it made him uneasy. He didn't believe as much in luck as he did in skill, but there were occasions where he realized that mentioning certain things made the probability of their occurrence increase.

And the last thing they needed at hand now was a replay of last year's incident.

"What do you think, Syuusuke?" Atobe reclined in his seat by the board holding the results of the ranking matches, then stretched. "I think the year one brat is doing pretty well within his block."

Fuji smiled, peering at the results almost shortsightedly. "Hmmn... He's due for his match against Inui later in the afternoon."

The diva only did a cursory glance. "He did a good job of wiping the courts with those second years' asses. They needed that wake-up call."

The fair-haired one tilted his head to one side and gave Atobe an amused grin. "Talking about that-- don't you have a game now?"

He smiled slightly, though in truth he wasn't amused. Having to play against inferior players to keep his rank was boring, but later he would be going up against Momoshiro and Kawamura, and he knew that defeating them would be a bit bitter, since Tezuka had set him up. He'd be taking out two of his own favorites. Why couldn't he be in a block with Oishi, Kaidou or Kikumaru?

Oh, no. Tezuka had no ulterior motives whatsoever.

It was those little sly slights that made Atobe really dislike the captain. Politics. Power. Tezuka had them, and he used them in subtle ways to undermine Atobe. He wasn't even sure if Tezuka was doing it consciously or not, but the supposedly impartial captain had definitely gained a dislike toward those who supported Atobe over him. It was natural enough - and frankly a relief that there was a sign that Tezuka was human - but Atobe wished others would notice.

Atobe didn't let any of his disgust show as he rose to his feet, grabbing his bag. Instead he fixed the smirk that everyone expected from him on his lips, and gave Fuji a mocking bow. "Are you coming to watch my magnificence?" Defeating an unranked second year wouldn't be a challenge, but having an audience might make it more amusing.

Fuji gave it a second's thought before shaking his head. "I'm going to watch Echizen's match. If he defeats Inui, he'll be as good as guaranteed a spot on the regulars, since he took Kaidou out this morning."

Atobe smirked a bit. "Looks like I'm right about Kaidou," he said, referring to their bet.

"Inui will be a larger hurdle. He watched Echizen play Kaidou..." Fuji said, trailing off, the implication clear.

"Interesting. Almost makes me wish I wasn't playing. Let me know what you think, won't you?"

Fuji just gave him an inscrutable smile. "Maybe."

Atobe heaved a melodramatic sigh. "Why do I put up with you?"

"Because we look so good together?"

That startled a laugh from the diva, who headed over to B court. Despite his inner dissatisfaction, when he stepped onto the court, all of it melted away, and he felt the thrill he knew only when he was playing tennis. His opponent, a second year who favored Tezuka, trembled when Atobe smiled at him.

"Fifteen minutes," he promised. "I have another game I want to watch." He heard a few comments from the other boy's friends about his arrogance, but he knew he was only stating facts. The screams he got from those who adored him, impressed by his confidence, more than made up for it. He heard a female voice asking "Inoue-senpai" about him, and recognized the name of the Tennis Weekly Magazine reporter who hung around junior high schools, trying to find the next rising star.

"That's Atobe Keigo. He's one of the top players here, maybe the best player Seigaku has," said the half-remembered voice.

"Isn't that Tezuka-kun?" the woman asked, sounding curious.

"No one knows. He and Tezuka keep switching the singles one and two slots, so it's anyone's guess who's better."

He smiled, turning around to see a pretty woman in her twenties standing by the reporter who had interviewed him last year after he and Tezuka had been named for the Junior Selection Camp. "I'll tell you right now -- I'm better. Never forget that."

"Ohh!" The female reporter appeared to be honestly surprised by his direct admission of skill. She turned to her senior almost immediately. "He's certainly confident for such a young boy, Inoue-senpai! Listen to the way he talks!"

Satisfied that he had made his point, he turned back to his reluctant opponent on the court, tilting his head to one side as he contemplated the other boy's obvious nervousness and tension.

"If you're really worried about wasting your time on this court - since it is kind of obvious that there are far more interesting matches being held elsewhere - I can make it within ten, I believe." He smirked again, and stopped himself from rolling his eyes when the younger boy rose to his bait almost immediately.

"I will not give up now!"

How boring. And kind of pathetic too, since it was obvious that he was going to thrash the other totally.

"Good." He shrugged almost nonchalantly, raising his racket. "Shall we begin then?"

The match proceeded as he predicted, and he kept his promise, ending it within fifteen minutes. The roaring cheers surrounding him when he was done felt satisfying, and he wandered away from the court before some of his fans or the two reporters could accost him and delay him from arriving in court D before the match there ended. He came to a stop beside Fuji, who was frowning slightly in concentration, an unusual sight.

"How's it so far?"

Fuji turned to regard Atobe with a faint smile. "It doesn't look too good for Echizen. Inui is doing a good job at predicting his moves. You can see that he's getting increasingly agitated."

"Indeed," the diva kept his eyes trained on the two boys moving rapidly on the courts, and raised an eyebrow when he saw Ryoma pause in between serves as if to consider something. "Nothing's sailing smooth for him, then. That should teach him something. Inui must have been a bad surprise to him... kind of like food poisoning, I believe."

There was a soft chuckle from Fuji. "Maa, that sounds cruel, Keigo-chan."

He shrugged, amused at his own joke. "I find it oddly true. Don't you?"

"Well..."

He glanced over at the prodigy, who had regained half a smile in amusement. He gave an answering smirk in return. "I think this boy is doing a good job at impressing his seniors. It's a pity that he still doesn't recognize the need to be a little more... humble in his attempts to play against us. If he had been a little more polite, I might even consider his request, but I believe that it would be a waste of my time, actually."

Fuji only smiled, almost kindly. "Saa... he's doing pretty well at impressing the other regulars, though."

"He would have to do so if he wants to get onto the team." Atobe glanced over at Inui again, who was unruffled by his opponent in the least bit. "And he's trying hard, at least. That's some saving grace. Inui intimidates his opponents far too easily and the way he's still unafraid despite having all his moves known says quite a lot about the brat."

"You sound as if you're warming up to him, Keigo-chan." Fuji's light, teasing tone was something the older boy had long since grown used to.

"His attitude is better than another left handed player I can name," Atobe said.

"I wonder what our esteemed buchou is making of this?" Fuji asked, watching as Ryoma proclaimed that he was going onto the Nationals. Nearby, the female reporter squealed in delight, apparently thrilled in the display of confidence.

"He's probably having some bad flashbacks to our last match," Atobe said, turning his head slightly to see Tezuka standing twenty feet away, with Oishi at his side.

"Hmm... he is rather like you, isn't he?" Fuji mused, watching as the boy began to bounce.

"He's got a ways to go, but the raw material is there. This should be good," Atobe admitted, watching the first year unveil his specialty, the split step.

Ryoma managed to quickly turn the game around, undermining Inui's data by providing it as they went - and Inui simply didn't have enough skill to keep up with him. It was amusing, and Atobe liked the style.

In a few years, the boy might approach his level. It was interesting, since it'd be fun to have a rival who actually understood about more than the bare bones of tennis, who understood that attitude was part of the game. But that was a few years off. Atobe watched, and saw places where he'd be able to take the first year apart. He'd be fun to play with later, but it wasn't time. Yawning delicately, he covered his mouth as Ryoma managed to tie the score. "I'm going to go take a shower before everyone else decides they need to get in my way."

"Aren't you going to watch till the end?" Fuji asked, his eyes still riveted as Inui took the next serve.

"I know how it's going to end. I think the final match between Kaidou and Inui will be interesting - you might just be right about Mr. Data," Atobe conceded. "But I'm right about two players being gone."

"I just can't win sometimes," Fuji said easily. "Make sure you don't spray your cologne too heavily - I think Tezuka's allergic."

"Would I do that?"

Ryuuzaki Sumire stared at the results of the ranking tournaments, feeling a serious headache coming on. She hadn't been anticipating Inui losing, and without his careful neutrality, she was seriously worried about what would happen to the team. Reaching into her desk drawer, she drew out a bottle of aspirin and swallowed four dry, trying to ward off a migraine. Ever since Atobe and Tezuka had entered her club, she had taken to keeping an industrial size bottle on hand, knowing that she'd need it.

The slights, the power ploys, the small fights were getting old. Apparently the club members agreed, because recently things had escalated into actual fistfights, and she had no clue how to stop it. Tezuka was a good captain, and provided good leadership, but the fact that he couldn't get respect from half of his regulars meant that situations were constantly simmering.

It would be easy to blame Atobe, with his flashy personality, but she knew he did much to keep those who followed him in line, and never sanctioned violence. The problem lay in the fact that the two personalities were just too strong to exist in the same atmosphere without clashing.

They SHOULD have learned how to get along for the good of the club, but it hadn't happened. Instead, the wary truce the two danced around was tentative and constantly being pushed by members like Fuji, who seemed to delight in riling people up just to watch their reactions.

Actually, thinking about Fuji made her want to take another pill.

Sometimes she wondered if things would have been better with Atobe as captain. Tezuka most likely would have had the grace to accept the vice captain position, and that might have healed the breached...

And that idea made her laugh, hard. The idea of those two working together for any length of time was enough to send her into hysterics.

One of these days, she was going to start becoming senile long before her years and she would have her boys to thank for that. Totally. If Tezuka and Atobe had never appeared... admittedly, she appreciated talent of their sort. In the same way she appreciated having the privilege to train Echizen Nanjirou, having Atobe and Tezuka under her wings was something she found great pride in.

It was just that... the two boys clashed in ways nobody would believe.

They were worse than countries waging wars on each other, setting out to make the other's life as miserable as possible at all times. Many would comment that it was below Tezuka to do anything of that sort, but she could see the boys for what they were. They were still boys in all respects, and rivalry between boys was something she had grown old watching over the years. On the courts and off, there were reasons why those two boys appeared to hate each other's guts. Now, if only she could make them cooperate...

The thought made her laugh again, more than slightly loud this time. The other teachers in the room gave her worried glances.

Maybe Ryoma would fill in the space Inui emptied with his disappearance from the regulars. As far as she could see, Ryoma had yet to pick a side, and some would even say that he was someone who walked his own path-- a 'my pace' kind of person. He would do some good for the team, she hoped. This was the third year since Atobe and Tezuka entered Seigaku, and it would be kind of sad if they left school holding the same grudges they had since they were first year students.

"Ryuzaki-sensei," Inui's polite tone alerted her of the data tennis player's presence, and she nodded, waving him in. "I wonder if I can actually take on the role of the manager while I'm not on the team?"

She stared at him briefly, wondering about his request. Inui must have taken his defeat from both Ryoma and Kaidou hard, and she could see that he had something up his sleeve with that request. Regardless, she knew that it would be useless to let her ex-regular members sit around waiting for the next set of ranking matches.

If Inui wanted to occupy himself by coming up with a totally tailored training schedule for the regulars, why not?

Maybe it would help her lessen her burden, as there would now be someone else to watch over the regulars when she was busy. And Inui's neutral standpoint for the two power welders of their team would help him in enforcing a stringent and fair training schedule, she was sure. If it had been anyone else, she couldn't be sure if that person would seek to be totally fair in administrating punishments.

"Yes, I think it is a good idea. Do you have your training schedules done? Maybe I can take a look before you start enforcing them." She leaned over, peering at the sheet of paper Inui handed over with a wide smile.

Scanning through the list of training exercises and diet plans, she stopped at the section labelled 'Punishment' with surprise.

"Inui," Ryuzaki began carefully, staring at one of the labelled items. "What is this... 'Penal-Tea' you're making them drink for punishment?"

End: Chapter 3


	5. Chapter 4

  
  
Chapter 4

Neither Atobe or Fuji had won their bet, and neither of them were happy about that. They had been looking forward to having Kawamura back on the team, but it looked like it would be at least another month before he had a chance to rejoin them. Not that Atobe blamed Momoshiro for winning the last slot in B Block.

Oh, no. He blamed Tezuka for rigging the damn blocks in the first place.

The next day in his home room, he noticed Kawamura being resigned and a bit disappointed. Atobe would have tried to cheer him up, were it in his nature, but it wasn't. Atobe Keigo merely gave Kawamura's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and asked him how his training menu was going.

Kawamura's sweet smile in reply had been relieved that Atobe hadn't condemned him. Atobe tended to wash his hands of people he didn't consider worth the time, but Kawamura was good company.

Fuji hadn't been happy, either.

"It's going to be a while before the next ranking matches," the prodigy said as they changed later that day in the locker room. Kawamura was with them that time, wearing the light green warm-ups of a third-year non-regular. "I think things just got interesting."

Atobe had to agree. It would be odd not having Inui on the team, since Inui seemed to be one of those forces of nature that was utterly unstoppable. He wasn't the best player, but he was good. Atobe hadn't been surprised by that first year winning, but Kaidou had been a bit of an upset. Had Inui's data been that faulty?

Kawamura leaned against the door, blocking others from entering while Atobe was in there. Atobe had long ago made it quite clear that he didn't like being stared out while changing, and Kawamura had finally agreed to stand watch if it would keep Atobe from throwing a fit. Kawamura would do a lot of things for Atobe, if only to keep him from going off.

Really, the boy was too sweet for his own good.

Atobe finished zipping up his jacket before inspecting his tennis bag, making sure no one had snuck any "surprises" inside. It had only happened once, and he still hadn't figured out who had thought it was funny to change the CDs he kept in there with Cher and Madonna ones. He hadn't been amused at all, even though his own had been located in his shoebox. The prank had required planning, but no one was supposed to get away with that sort of thing. If he hadn't known better, he would have suspected Fuji, but his friend sworn up and down that he hadn't done it... though he wished he thought of it first.

Fuji watched Atobe's preparations with a careful eye, waiting for him to finish. Atobe was always late, and if they didn't get moving soon, Tezuka was going to have the right to order them to do laps. It would be just the right way to get practice for the prefectural matches started off. Atobe would be pissed and sweaty, and Tezuka would look like a dictator... again.

Sometimes it was difficult to believe that both boys didn't do things just to incite each other.

"Let's go." The diva picked up his racket then turned to Kawamura with a smile, giving him a nod to indicate that he was ready.

The three of them entered the courts a few seconds after Tezuka did, Atobe's languid gait a familiar sight to many of the club members. The captain turned to give him a sharp glance, one that said he had barely made it on time and just one second more would earn him twenty laps around the courts.

"The second and third year students will be in the C court. A and B courts will be for the regular members. Finally..."

"Wait a minute, for the regular members..."

Just as Tezuka was about to finish giving out his instructions, Ryuzaki-sensei entered the courts. She was giving everyone a slightly more cheerful look that day, and there were no signs of her usual aspirin bottle about. Their coach gestured to the much taller third year ex-regular standing beside her with a rather unbecoming grin for someone of her age.

"I've asked this man to prepare a special training menu." The old lady beamed. "He has offered to be the manager during the period of time he's off the school team."

While Inui briefed everyone on that day's training exercise - footwork, which means training up their ankles for strength and endurance by weighing them down with additional weights - Tezuka once again glanced at Atobe, who appeared to be only giving the data tennis player half a ear. The diva finally turned to stare back at the bespectacled boy, feeling more than slightly irritated at Tezuka's looks.

"...red, blue and yellow balls have been prepared."

"I see, nya." Kikumaru beamed, recognising immediately that this was his forte.

Speed body motion recognition was one of Kikumaru's special abilities, and so far, there were very few people on the team who could rival him in that aspect of tennis. They were supposed to differentiate the coloured lines on the tennis balls and hit them towards the cones of the same colour. It looked like they were just hitting the balls randomly, until one paid attention and noticed that the tennis balls were coloured.

Inui's reply was calm. "Make an error and it's over."

Fuji and Atobe observed the match from the side of the courts, waiting for their turn. The prodigy smiled when he saw that Ryoma was actually matching Kikumaru ball for ball, and it came off as something that was no less than impressive. A couple of the first year girls were standing behind the fence just a little away from them, making astounded remarks on Ryoma's playing.

"Maa, it looks like Echizen has been picking up admirers already." Fuji tilted his head to one side as he turned to smile at Atobe.

The older boy smirked. "He still has room for improvement, then, if it's only two and not a few dozen. Unlike us."

Atobe glanced easily at the crowd of screaming girls standing by the left side of the courts, then offered them a smile, causing a small uproar. An unhappy frown from Oishi was delivered in his direction, just as Kikumaru missed one of his serves and started wailing at Inui for being unfair. Atobe actually raised an eyebrow as Inui brought out his special "punishment." If Inui hadn't been so blasted fair in everything, he might be tempted to think he had it in for Kikumaru... but that would only be partially right. Inui probably had it in for everyone, right now.

The thick, green juice Inui produced, waving it in front of Kikumaru, brought motion to a halt, with the exception of Ryoma, who continued to hammer away at the balls. "You know, I almost feel sorry for the genki one," Atobe mused.

Fuji stared at Kikumaru as he tried to make excuses before finally accepting his fate. "I think it looks like fun. Want a glass?"

Atobe rolled his eyes. "Please, no. God knows where it's been or what's in it."

From the scream Kikumaru let loose, and the way he dashed for the water fountain, it was obviously something unimaginably vile. The team watched Kikumaru use his amazing speed to vanish from the court, and Tezuka didn't even bother to chide him for it, obviously a bit surprised himself.

Kikumaru's antics finally distracted the first year regular, and Ryoma stopped dead in his tracks, trying to figure out what the heck was happening around him. He wasn't a terribly observant person, though, so when Inui appeared with the glass, he gamely tried to drink it.

"AHHH!!"

Even Tezuka blinked at how fast Ryoma managed to take off.

"Hmmm..." Atobe mused, staring at where the first year had stood. "Guess he's not so tough after all."

"Are you volunteering for a free glass?" Inui asked, sounding curious. He held out a cup of the juice, and Atobe smirked again.

"Why should I? You'll need to save plenty for Tezuka, since I'm sure he wants to do everything he can to improve his performance," Atobe shot back. His smirk was downright wicked as he stared at the captain.

"I wouldn't want to deprive you, Atobe," Tezuka replied quietly, keeping his arms folded across his chest. The light that glimmered in his eyes was a warning, and Atobe could tell that Tezuka was genuinely concerned about what was in the concoction Inui deigned to call juice. He opened his mouth to make another retort, but Ryuuzaki-sensei intervened, calling him and Fuji to the court.

Even with the threat of punishment hanging over his head, Atobe played solidly, not missing any of the balls. Color discernment was easy for someone who had his insight, but it was more fun to watch Inui - Inui had a tendency to glance over at the cone which the ball was supposed to go to after serving, waiting for Atobe's return. All he had to do was follow Inui's eyes to figure out where the ball was supposed to go next. He figured it was subconscious, really, and it certainly wasn't the point of the exercise, but there weren't rules in how something was done as long as it was done well.

Inui only paused once, after Fuji missed a ball. Atobe looked over at his friend, not at all surprised to see the pleasant smile pasted on his face, mixed with a tilt in his head that indicated impending mischief.

He smirked in return, knowing that Fuji was probably going to do something which very few people could understand or believe, even. The diva turned back to Inui, watching him walk over to Fuji with a glass of his so-called 'vegetable juice'. It was really rather dubious-looking, thick, green and filled with more than a hint of... strangeness.

Everyone stared as Fuji finished the drink, apparently waiting for him to start running to the fountains in the same way Kikumaru and Ryoma did. Contrary to everyone's expectations, the prodigy only smiled and handed the glass back to Inui, a bright smile on his face.

"That's really quite tasty."

For the next few moments, everyone could only stare at Fuji in silence. Atobe felt a smirk surfacing again, and hearing the uproar by the courts as fan girls and the other club members alike applauded Fuji's skill. Inui appeared to be honestly confused and more than slightly afraid of the smiling prodigy, accepting the empty glass with a hesitant smile.

Score.

Fuji gave him a small nod when he left the courts, an indication that it wasn't as bad as he thought. Although he would trust his best friend more than everyone else, the fact that the drink actually had normal people running off screaming wasn't as comforting as seeing Fuji down it like it was a normal drink.

"Ah, yes," Inui said, before returning to serving balls toward Atobe.

He continued practising with Inui, until it reached a point where he was frankly getting quite bored with the whole training process. Just as he was about to forfeit his turn and take the horrible juice just to see if he could, Inui gave him a small nod.

"Take a break. You're doing well."

It wasn't until then that he noticed the additional weights on his ankles, weighing him down and giving him some slight difficulties while walking. He leaned against the fence beside Fuji, glancing over as Tezuka took the recently vacated position on the courts.

The prodigy tilted his head to one side in question. "Ahh, it's Tezuka's turn now, isn't it?"

"Yes," Atobe's voice was a lazy drawl. "I can't wait to see him drink that juice."

"It's really not that bad. Maybe a little on the spicy side, but I don't really mind." Fuji's cheerful smile was something Atobe had learnt not to trust while they were talking about food. The last time that happened, he ended up eating a roll of wasabi maki.

The diva crossed his arms. "You have an unnatural fondness for spicy things. For someone who can finish a plate of wasabi maki, I wouldn't be surprised if you only find the drink 'slightly spicy' while the rest of our team are tearing up and screaming for help."

"But it is really good." Fuji continued grinning, until his friend gave a slightly exasperated but amused sigh. "You should try it some time."

"Thanks, but I'll pass," Atobe adjusted his grip on the racket, then glanced over again to where Tezuka was hitting each of the tennis balls back to their respective coloured cones with practised precision. "Someone's in a pretty good form today."

"Hmmm... yes. Then again, I've never seen a day when he wasn't," Fuji said.

Another scream across the court indicated that Oishi had just fallen victim to Inui's juice, and Atobe watched the vice captain sprint for the gate. "Think we should use that to help our timed sprints?"

"Maybe."

In the end, everyone except Tezuka and Atobe ended up drinking the juice, and the regulars all lounged around the court, looking groggy and disorientated. Atobe smirked as he and Fuji sat side by side, watching Kaidou's slightly green face. Amazingly, it was possible for him to look more like a snake.

Inui's recitation of their weaknesses brought laughs, especially when he told Atobe that he was too cocky (he was not!) and Tezuka that his expression was too cold. Atobe didn't need to be a data analyst to know that - but then again, it was impossible to change someone who had a lump of granite for a personality to begin with.

Tezuka sat with Oishi in their classroom, sharing lunch. Tomorrow they would be entering their first match of the season against Gyukurin, and they had a problem. It was the same problem they had last year, aside from what had happened at Kantou...

Tezuka shook his head. Not the time, not the place.

Frankly, their doubles line up sucked.

Kikumaru and Oishi were definitely aces in the Doubles 1 slot, but Tezuka was unable to suggest anyone else to Ryuuzaki-sensei who he would trust to actually win in Doubles 2. Cooperation didn't seem to be in Seigaku's vocabulary, and while Inui might have been able to learn to play doubles, he was no longer an option.

Ryoma? Momoshirou? Kaidou?

The three remaining candidates would have made him laugh, were he the kind of personality that did such a thing. Ryoma, from what Tezuka had seen of him, was extremely stubborn, extremely independent, and wouldn't fair very well in doubles, having most likely never played it. Kaidou and Momoshirou couldn't stand the sight of each other. The possibility of splitting the Golden Pair up was something he was seriously considering, because MAYBE Oishi and Kikumaru might rub off on their underclassmen.

Luckily, the final decision didn't rest with him. It was Ryuuzaki-sensei's headache.

Oishi took a bite of his lunch, staring over his desk at Tezuka thoughtfully. "This year's team looks strong," he said, but there was a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Tezuka merely nodded, unable to deny that in singles, Seigaku would be fielding one of the strongest teams it had seen. Between himself, Atobe and Fuji, there were few chances of losing any of those slots. Fuji, who played in third singles, was strong enough to defeat most schools' number one players.

Especially if he took a dislike to them.

Fuji was one of those people Tezuka held in great respect, and quite far away, knowing that he was a walking time bomb. He was never outright hateful to Tezuka, but in some ways that was worse. Atobe, despite his active dislike of him, was in many ways easier to deal with, because Tezuka at least knew where he stood.

On opposite sides.

With Fuji, he wasn't quite sure.

It would be easy for most people to pass off the prodigy as a harmless, smiling boy who sided with Atobe despite knowing his faults. What Tezuka saw was a somewhat sly person who knew which side of the equation to nudge as and when he wanted to, simply because it suited his sense of humour. And simply because he knew the type of reactions he could get out of others.

The fact that he was Atobe's best friend was just a matter of coincidence.

He often thought that Fuji would have known what to do and probably would have chosen the same path as Inui, citing no one and taking after nobody. His close friendship with Atobe was something of a surprise to many, since Fuji was an extremely quiet and unobtrusive boy during his first year.

Very few people had a thorough grasp of his level of expertise (despite knowing that he was a junior level champion) and even fewer had the chance to be at the receiving end of Fuji's carefully calculated returns. The prodigy liked picking victims, and although he had never faced down Fuji when the latter was serious about his game, he could more or less gauge the prodigy's level.

"I think we might get stronger." He put down his chopsticks and picked up the water bottle sitting beside the lunch box.

Oishi gave him a mildly worried frown. "I do hope so... we're awfully bad at doubles. That's our only weakness."

He glanced over. "I'm sure we can find a way out of that."

"Ahh-"

From outside the classroom, a loud voice drifted past the semi-opened window to reach their ears.

"Yes, of course you can expect nothing but the best from me." Atobe's proud voice was hardly easy to be mistaken.

Tezuka was sure that he could recognise the other's voice even if he was standing ten miles off. His drawl was simply that distinctive. As usual, the captain could hardly be bothered about his rival and he picked up his chopsticks again, reaching over to pick at what was left in the lunch box.

It was unfortunate that Kawamura had to be in the same class as the diva, and the even more unfortunate fact was his eventual decision to follow Atobe. In Tezuka's opinion, Kawamura was a sweet young man who was a little too soft at times, and that was the part of his personality which Atobe took advantage of, he was sure.

People had tried explaining the reasons behind why they followed Atobe, but Tezuka thought it was all a waste of effort, actually. It was simple enough to see the prima donna of their team for who he was.

It was even simpler to be prejudiced towards him simply for his behaviour, a small voice reminded Tezuka.

He gave a faint shrug, and start packing the remains of his lunch away. Oishi glanced up from where he was playing with the last bits of his lunch, a fond smile on his face.

"Let's hope that Ryuuzaki-sensei can come up with something good tomorrow."

End: Chapter 4


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Let it never be said Ryuuzaki Sumire didn't have a sense of humor - and a particularly sadistic one at that. But her reasons for pulling what she did that day were for the team's own good, really.

Inui had been the one to point out that Atobe and Tezuka's quarrel had to be ended this year, if the division wasn't to become permanent. There were signs that the two factions were strong enough to sustain the rivalry even without their leaders, and it looked like Momoshirou and Kaidou would be sliding into the diva and captain's role naturally enough, were that to happen. So it was time for drastic measures. Inui hinted that if there was some way to get the two to work together, rather than work against each other...

A plan began to take shape, one which had other benefits.

She knew other players desperately wanted to play in the Singles slots, but wouldn't have the chance to, not while her prized trio were around. She could, of course, bench them as subs, but benching Atobe and not Tezuka or visa versa would only fuel the controversy.

In the end, things came out to be amazingly simple - and the horrified look on Atobe's face and the way Tezuka's eyebrow started to twitch when she informed them of what they were going to do was more than worth it.

The team, which was circling around her as she read off the match order, went silent as they waited for the explosion - and they didn't have to wait long.

"You... you want me... to play... doubles?" Atobe asked in a strained voice, sounding like he had just tasted something particularly unpleasant. "With him? Second doubles with... Tezuka?"

Ryuuzaki knew it had been chancy to throw two of her aces into the second doubles slot, but Gyukurin really wasn't that strong a school. "Atobe, I want to try some different players in singles... I've never seen Oishi there, and if you and Tezuka start, think of the momentum you'll give the team," she said, trying to sooth his battered ego.

Tezuka stared at her, his fingers digging deeply into his fists. "Ryuuzaki-sensei, I think it might be wise to reconsider," he advised, the perfect monotone a contrast for Atobe's near-shriek.

"I already turned in the sign in sheet," she said, crossing her arms across her chest and preparing for a battle of wills. She had undermined his authority in doing so, but he probably would have protested earlier if he knew what she had planned.

Atobe and Tezuka seemed to be in rare agreement as they glared back at her. She was unswayed - hadn't been coaching thirty years worth of strong-willed boys for nothing.

"Doubles 2, Atobe and Tezuka! Set the pace! Doubles 1, Echizen and Momoshirou - you asked to play together, prove why I should let you! Singles 3 - Kaidou! Show your stuff! Singles 2 - Oishi! I want to see your own strength. Singles 1 - Fuji! Don't mess around!" 

Kikumaru muttered something about being on reserve, while Atobe and Tezuka exchanged uneasy looks.

Later Ryuuzaki thought that maybe she had been asking for a little too much when she dumped two of her best singles players together on a team for doubles. After all, they were so very honest in their intense dislike for each other, and both had never bothered trying to work out the schematics of doubles before. It simply never occurred either that playing doubles would be pushed onto them one day. Not to mention that both were all rounder players and had serious problems letting his partner get to the tennis ball before he did.

The Gyukurin team and coach had a good laugh at how clumsy her two top boys looked on the court together, and for the briefest moment, she felt almost sorry for them. The keyword was 'almost'. It was about payback time for all those headaches they gave her and the amount of aspirins she downed since the moment they arrived in her life.

On reflection, even Echizen Nanjirou didn't give her that big a problem. Admittedly the man was a foul-mouthed kid in his youth, and he was still a foul-mouthed creature, except that he had probably improved by a little. His lecherous side never seemed to change, though.

She called for a break after their fifth game-- the boys managed to keep all their service games, but that was probably their only saving grace. "Come on, the both of you. I'm sure you can do better than this. How are you supposed to inspire the team if you lose the very first match of the season?"

Losing Doubles 2 wasn't a problem to her, apparently.

"Why I-it's not my fault if _he_-" at this, Atobe shot Tezuka a venom-filled look. "Can't coordinate for all he's worth."

"I fail to see you cooperating either."

The diva's eyes widened and he raised his voice, slightly. "I'm not the one who keeps diving for my partner's volleys!"

Tezuka's reply was calm. "You did the same thing as well."

"What're you two boys talking about?" Ryuuzaki frowned, giving both of her best 'watch your mouth before me' looks. "This isn't how you play doubles. The both of you have been playing tennis for years-- surely you can do something as simple as coordinating with a partner for doubles?"

"Ryuuzaki-sensei," Tezuka began, forehead slightly crinkled. "Neither of us is trained for doubles. It simply isn't-"

"I'm not going to give up now." Atobe suddenly spoke, frowning fiercely. "I won't let YOU stop me from winning this match."

The team captain would have raised an eyebrow if it was habitual for him to do so. "If that's the case, please refrain from messing up further on the courts."

Ryuuzaki had the feeling that Atobe was contemplating wrecking his tennis racket over the other's head for that insult. So much for her even-headed captain of the team.

The diva seethed. "You just wait and see, Tezuka! You're not any better!"

Over at the other side of the courts, faint murmurs were beginning to start up within the Gyukurin team members and their supporters. Ryuuzaki risked a glance at her own team, whose expressions varied from worried to outright embarrassed. Fuji was the only person who remained smiling as if he was incredibly amused by the turn of events.

Suddenly, she regretted not bringing her aspirin bottle along.

Izumi and Fukawa, Gyukourin's doubles pair, had originally been extremely nervous about being thrown in a game against such legendary players as Atobe Keigo and Tezuka Kunimitsu. But when they found out that despite being spectacular on the singles court, the two couldn't work together worth beans, their tune quickly changed.

Imagine -- being known as the first players to defeat not just Tezuka, not just Atobe, but both of them! They scarcely dare dream of it, but somehow or another, the plum was about to fall into their lap.

Izumi was the first to notice it, and it struck him as amazingly similar as what had happened the night before, when they had played against Momoshirou and Echizen. The two players couldn't cooperate, and were actually tripping each other up. Tezuka was unable to keep the ball coming back to him when Atobe got in the way, and Atobe's famed perception seemed jolted by having someone on his side -- he seemed to be watching what Tezuka was doing with a wary eye, as though wishing he could turn his racket on him. And now they were ahead, 3-2. It was Tezuka's serve for Seigaku, and Izumi knew that this was their chance - they had to break his serve... and Seigaku would destroy themselves.

Glancing over at Fukawa, he saw that his partner had read his mind. A slight smile curved his lips, and he glanced over at where Tezuka was moving to the baseline, preparing to serve.

Seeing Atobe up close was a bit unnerving, since he was staring at him with a glare that said the diva considered him something he wasn't sure how to mush. All in all, it wasn't a good atmosphere.

Tennis was supposed to be fun, damnit.

Tezuka served.

Izumi blinked, watching the ball whiz by. It was pinpointed perfectly - for a singles court.

Fukawa, though, was positioned closer to the line than a singles player would have been, and smirked as he returned it... right down the center line.

And Tezuka and Atobe collided into each other, for the second time of the game.  
Tezuka was left handed, and Atobe was right, and their arms tangled as they both went for the ball. Atobe gave an abbreviated yelp before the force of Tezuka's swing brought him down, but not before his presence tripped up Tezuka, who actually grunted as he hit the ground, burying Atobe underneath him.

Ryuuzaku just buried her face in her hands, unable to watch any longer. It hurt, really, to see two such beautiful athletes destroy each other.

The ball rolled between them, and the referee blinked, a bit amazed at the sheer clumsiness. "0-15!" he called after a moment.

Everyone else went dead silent. Usually such antics would have evoked a series of mocking comments, but the people who were watching couldn't believe what they were seeing -- Tezuka and Atobe, reduced to nothing on a tennis court.

"Made made dane," Ryoma said after a moment, his voice echoing across the court.

Atobe felt Tezuka's weight on top of him, and almost screamed at the sheer unfairness of it all. He was being made a fool of, and it was all the stupid icecube's fault. He was going to...

"That was my ball," Tezuka said softly, not moving.

"It was not!" Atobe short back. "Will you PLEASE get off of me? If I'm at all damaged due to your stupidity..."

"I'm sure you're not that fragile." And in an abrupt moment, the heavy weight pressing him into the ground was released.

Dumb icecube.

As Atobe watched the other boy straighten out his tennis jersey with narrowed eyes, he decided that Tezuka did all that out of spite. Yes. Just to make him look totally ungraceful and enrage lying on the ground underneath-

"Atobe." The captain's stare was sharp.

He straightened himself while resisting the urge to roll his eyes at his doubles partner. Over at the side of the courts, Ryuuzaki was just about ready to give up on the match. To make his point, Atobe turned and glared at the two smirking Gyukurin doubles players.

"If this is a singles game, I'll be wiping the courts with your asses." He dusted himself off almost regally. "But unfortunately, this isn't. So I guess the both of you'll have to live with the knowledge that you have met me on the courts, but are unable to beat me as a singles player. Any other person would die to have that chance, since singles is my specialty after all."

"_Atobe_."

"I know," the diva sighed, getting into position. "Stop acting like you have something undesirable in your shorts."

There was a soft, barely audible chortle from Fuji, which promptly turned the rest of the Seigaku regulars' attention to him. He only gave them his usual innocent smile in reply, shrugging helplessly. Ryoma glanced at Fuji out of the corner of his eyes, the feeling that the boy next to him wasn't simple rising once more.

"I think Sumire-chan did a good job." Fuji's casual comment made everyone stare at him in shock.

"Fuji! I told you not to call me-"

"Look at them." Fuji's ambiguous reply left everyone baffled.

The sharper ones, Ryoma and Inui included, took a few careful looks at the two top singles players moving on the courts.

And Fuji was right. The two of them might still be bickering and hating each others' guts to hell and back, but they were beginning to get used to the feeling of sharing a court with another. They weren't adapting fast enough though, and the fact that they didn't like each other much was a huge barricade in their path to becoming good doubles partners.

In the prodigy's opinion, a good example of a doubles team would be their Golden Pair, of course. Their coordination was not only flawless, both players were acutely aware of their partners and they trusted each other to cover for their open areas. This was what Atobe and Tezuka had to learn-- trust.

It looked as if Ryuuzaki had to set her boys on stricter doubles training lessons again, just to make everyone coordinate.

Fuji knew without doubt that Atobe would be beyond infuriated by the time his match ended. Not to mention that the Momoshirou-Echizen doubles would be after them and Fuji had already spied the two boys doing homework for doubles. Undoubtedly, they were definitely going to do better the two star players of their team.

Meanwhile, all Fuji had to do was stand there and watch the slow drama unfolding before his eyes.

This was one of the reasons why he chose to stay in Seigaku. It was just like Atobe said-- 'Never a dull moment.'

End: Chapter 5


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When Oishi met Tezuka, they were both first year students at Seigaku. Oishi tended toward shyness, but that was okay with the latter, because Tezuka wasn't the most extroverted person in the world. It seemed naturally that the two quiet, disciplined students gravitate toward each other.

Oishi liked Tezuka, but he was one of the few. Tezuka didn't have that many people who genuinely liked him - he commanded respect, not affection. Even as a first year, there was something about the way he moved that commanded the eye, that demanded acknowledgment.

But that was okay with Oishi. Tezuka wasn't a mean person, and he genuinely meant well.

It came as no surprise to anyone, after six months in the club, that when freshmen were finally allowed to try out for the team, Tezuka was being looked at by his seniors quite nervously, and a few of the more unscrupulous second years tried to make him back down.

Not that he would. Tezuka didn't back down from anything.

Along with Tezuka, there was another first year who had a good shot of securing a regulars position in his first attempt - Atobe Keigo. Oishi wasn't the kind of person who disliked people, which was a good thing when it came to Atobe. The latter was arrogant, boastful and inconsiderate, things which grated on his nerves.

They apparently grated on Tezuka's nerves as well, though the stoic boy did his best to tolerate Atobe. The two carefully avoided each other, and as luck would have it, Yamato, the captain, was kind enough to place them in separate blocks to keep them from going head-to-head.

Or so Oishi thought. Actually, he was quite wrong.

Yamato made one very big mistake during those ranking matches. He actually encouraged the rivalry.

Both tore through their blocks in a manner which terrified some of the older boys and things quickly escalated into something like a score war between the two boys. Both kept a sharp eye on the other's wins and losses, and made it a point not to stay far behind the other, or even try to overtake the other boys' score.

To put it simply, they massacred what was left of the school team. 

Their success didn't just make the older boys more wary of them-- they were also angry over how two first year boys could actually beat them at the game. They were young, small and they weren't supposed to be that good. They weren't supposed to stare their opponents down with fires burning in their eyes and confident stances which told of their experience.

Their love for tennis, and their hatred for each other brought them to levels nobody would believe.

At the end of the day, Ryuuzaki was proud of the two young boys, who fought long and hard to reach where they were-- standing shoulder to shoulder on top of the others. It was a pity that both, who were so brilliant and headstrong, also hated each other and refused to cooperate. She could see that there was great potential for the two of them should they work together, but apparently, either one of them must have pissed the other off pretty badly before they joined the club.

"Nice game, Tezuka," Atobe smiled, and there was something saccharine about the way his lips lifted at the corners. Next to him stood Fuji, who had his usual harmless smile on. "But it could have been won more gracefully, I believe. If I was the one playing, I'm sure I would have done better."

Oishi noticed Tezuka narrowing his eyes in a familiar telltale sign of irritation.

He hastened to speak. "Actually, Tezuka-kun-"

"Is a good player, no doubt." Atobe smirked. "But he still has space for improvement. Lots of improvement."

He didn't like trouble, but it always appeared that Atobe seemed to like looking for trouble. Oishi was naturally soft-spoken, and he wasn't as good at arguments as he hoped he could be, so he had a tendency to avoid them. Furthermore, Tezuka was quiet enough and nondescript enough in class that nobody ever bothered to notice him much.

It was nice. Being left alone, that was.

He didn't want them to become the victims of bullies in their school; he didn't want the older boys to pick on them just because they were quiet. So he was thankful when Tezuka supported him and proved his point more than once. The bespectacled boy was good enough to beat them at tennis and make them regret their actions. He was strong enough to face down the older boys and never flinch from the fight dawning in their eyes.

But Tezuka was proper. He never got into fights, simply because it wasn't his way of doing things.

That was why Oishi felt sure that he wasn't going to get into a fight now, even with Atobe inciting him in this manner. The problem laid not in them but in the over-confident first year boy they knew. There wasn't a single peaceful waking moment from the instant they knew the other boy, and Oishi had this feeling that peace with him would not only be hard won, but it would also take years to achieve.

He wasn't willing to condemn straightaway and he wasn't violent in the least bit but honestly, sometimes... there were moments where he wanted to crack his knuckles on Atobe's pretty face.

Tezuka held eerily still after Atobe's latest insult, and Oishi was of the opinion that a million profound thoughts were racing behind those carefully concealed eyes. Atobe seemed to be lying in wait, and Fuji stood just slightly behind the diva's shoulder, obvious in his support, but out of the direct line of fire.

"Improvement is something we should all strive for," Tezuka said after a moment of thought, agreeing easily enough.

Tezuka's tendency to agree with Atobe in a cutting way was one of the worst things for the diva, Oishi knew. Atobe liked to have people rise to his bait and lose their tempers, but as far as Oishi knew, Tezuka's temper was practically non-existent. He got irritated, but few things really managed to make him ANGRY.

Atobe kept trying his best, though.

"Some more than others," Atobe said, to which Fuji hid a snicker behind his hand. "It's a shame we weren't in the same block, or else I would have-"

Oishi prayed to every deity he knew of and a few he didn't for patience. Atobe Keigo was off, feeding his precious ego, and he was stuck being his audience, since Tezuka seemed to have decided to prove to everyone that he was Not Impressed by standing there with his arms across his chest and a neutral expression on his face.

"-and your serve keeps going dangerously close to the line -- once I think it was even out, but the referee wasn't paying close enough attention. If it was me, I-"

Was Fuji really laughing behind Atobe's back the way he looked?

Oishi was just about ready to grab Tezuka's arm and make up some kind of excuse when a voice cleared. Turning around, the four first years noticed their captain, Yamato, and automatically bowed, even Atobe.

"Yo," he said casually. He had a certain dignity to his manner, but he lacked a lot of formality. "I came over to congratulate our newest regular members," he said, grinning at Tezuka and Atobe. With a smile, he glanced at Fuji and Oishi. "You two did quite well, too -- I expect you'll be making the team soon."

Oishi flushed at the compliment, but Fuji just gave that same annoying smile that never seemed to leave his face.

"Thank you, buchou," Tezuka said formally. "We'll try not to disappoint you."

"I won't disappoint you," said Atobe right on Tezuka's heels, casting a glance over at his rival. Tezuka's eyes didn't waver from Yamato's face, but there was a tightening in his expression that meant Atobe had hit his mark.

Yamato looked at both of them, and a smile played on his lips. "I'm sure you won't, either of you," he said. "Can I ask you two a favor?" he asked.

The two blinked a bit in surprise, wondering what the captain could want, but nodded.

"I'm going to be graduating soon, and team is going to need someone to take my place. Can I count on you to become the new pillars of Seigaku?" he asked.

There was a long period of silence from both boys.

"Yamato-buchou," Atobe began slowly, as if to test the waters. "Are you asking us to lead the school team?"

Yamato smiled. "Why, that would be good too, if the both of you can cooperate and set down examples-"

"Ah," Tezuka's sudden reply made both boys turn to stare at him. "You want us to support the team when there is the need."

"Yes."

Atobe started smirking. "Of course I'll be able to do it, Yamato-buchou. I will not fail you."

Tezuka only stared at his captain in silence, something indecipherable flickering in his eyes. "We have to cooperate?"

The older boy gave both his standard smile. "That would be for the best. After all, how can two people lead the others when they are divided in their beliefs?"

Oishi had a bad feeling about the whole business of cooperating. Simply because that word didn't exist in the common dictionary of Tezuka and Atobe's. In fact, if he was to write a handbook for people dealing with them, the word 'cooperate' would never, ever pop up.

Not while both boys were alive, he believed.

It wasn't because he had no faith in Tezuka's temper. Neither was it because Atobe was as arrogant as a peacock strutting around the courts.

They hated each other.

It had rapidly become an established fact with Oishi from the moment he saw the two boys face off on the courts, one filled with burning determination and fiery indignation, the other filled with cold calm and carefully calculated insults. He knew he had certain private prejudices towards Atobe, but people could hardly blame him for disliking someone who invited others' displeasure.

"I'll try my best." That was Tezuka's eventual answer, and he turned to glance at Atobe for the effect.

The diva scowled, and almost crossed his arms. "I guess it simply can't be helped that some other people need to try while there are others who are talented enough to do things because they know they can do it and not because they know they have to TRY."

Tezuka's answer was nonplussed. "There's something called blind confidence."

Atobe only sneered. "And there's something called inferiority complex. And it applies to certain special individuals."

Oishi would have buried his face in his hands if it helped, but unfortunately, he knew no amount of panic-induced hand wringing or head hanging would aid the situation. It was unfortunate that both boys had to narrow down to this eventually. And as annoying as Atobe could be, Tezuka should have better sense than to-

"I'm glad to see that you're certainly not suffering from that ailment, since you showed more than enough confidence in yourself." Tezuka's reply made Oishi want to slap his own forehead in frustration.

"Why? Don't tell me you're jealous of me, Tezuka. It's really nothing much, you know, to be just a little more confident in myself. I guess it's really a gift I'm born with and I can't help having it. You, on the other hand-"

"I'm not that gifted, unfortunately." The calm, assessing look from the usually quiet boy made Atobe's eyes widened briefly before narrowing. "I sure I can live without the gift."

"You-"

"Boys," Yamato's amused voice broke their concentration and both boys appeared to notice again that there were people standing around them. "I take it that the two of you don't like each other very much then?"

Oishi seriously questioned if his captain had any sense of diplomacy, to bring such an issue out into the open. It was a question that Tezuka would be too polite to answer, Oishi was confident, but Atobe surely wouldn't trouble himself about anything such as common courtesy.

Not good, not good. Oishi wondered if there was any way to dodge the impending explosion.

Fuji's laughter actually grew audible, now, and Oishi decided that glaring at the fair-haired boy would be worth it. He wasn't stupid enough to involve himself in the Tezuka/Atobe spat, but getting annoyed with Fuji seemed like a productive use of his anger.

"If he didn't play tennis as well as he did, I wouldn't even bother with him," Atobe said after a moment.

Oishi blinked, unable to believe Atobe had offered something resembling a compliment - backhanded though it was - toward Tezuka. Turning his head toward his friend, he wondered if this might be the chance to bury some of the rivalry which was quickly festering into an open wound.

Tezuka just stared, and said nothing.

A tick formed in Atobe's eyebrow, and Oishi knew that Tezuka's refusal to acknowledge his skill on the court had seriously dented the diva's ego. Fuji's laughter went away, and Oishi looked over at him, only to meet sapphire eyes that were lacking all mirth.

The temperature around them dropped ten degrees.

"Hmmm." The pensive sound came from Yamato, who was scratching his chin thoughtfully as he stared at the four freshmen. "It's too bad you're so stubborn, especially since you have so much in common," he mused. A mischievous grin lit his face, and Oishi braced himself inside. Something was going on inside of the soon-to-be-graduating captain's head, and it probably wouldn't bode well for him. "If you refuse to get along... how about something else instead?"

Atobe and Tezuka seemed to stop breathing, sensing something profound was about to happen.

"You each seemed to think I meant something a little different when I asked you to be the pillars of Seigaku... how about you show me? What do you think it means, to be a pillar of Seigaku?"

"I-" Atobe began, but Yamato held up a hand to forestall him.

"Shh, shh, Atobe-kun. That was a rhetorical question. If you're going to play, it's going to be by my rules, ne? What I want is for you two to show me the meaning of being a pillar of the team."

Tezuka watched with narrowed eyes. "How do we know if we're right?" he asked.

"You'll know," Yamato said. "There's been few true pillars of the team - few people who've been strong enough. I was thrilled when I saw you two, because I don't think we've ever had a team where two players had that capability... but we do now. I think it will be very interesting to see how you develop - it almost makes me wish I was staying here."

He turned and walked away, his steady stride hypnotizing the four first years until he had disappeared into the club house.

End: Chapter 6 


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Seikagu wins, 4 games to 1!" the referee said.

It irked Atobe, really, to hear the match count as the players stood lined up by the net to bow to their opponents. He frowned as he politely inclined his head, feeling Tezuka's presence beside him. He was always aware of the other boy, and this time he could practically feel the humiliation radiating off him. He felt it to. Of course he did.

How the hell could he lose? Next to him, Tezuka had to be sharing a similar train of thought.

Atobe glanced over at Momoshiro, who stood to his other side. Amazingly, Momoshiro and Echizen had won, which was just rubbing salt on the wound.

_Why the hell didn't we think of drawing a line down the center of the court?_ he wondered.

The Gyukurin doubles two pair were the only ones on the opposing team that seemed at all happy, and it wasn't a surprise. Even though they had been eliminated, their reputations had just been made.

"If you ever want to play a real man's game, we're play on the street tennis court," Izumi said to Atobe, giving him a wide smile. "I think giving you another lesson would be fun, Atobe-sama."

The voice was way too disrespectful, and Atobe glared at him. "Doubles is for those who can't rely on their own strength."

From down the line, he heard Kikumaru begin to protest quite loudly that Atobe was a complete idiot.

Izumi just smirked. "Is that so? Then how come you lost?"

Atobe opened his mouth for another ripping retort, but Izumi was already leaving. "Maybe I should make it a career - teaching Seigaku players how to play doubles. Your doubles teams suck. Splitting the court down the middle? Ridiculous. And watching you and Tezuka was something I could have sold tickets to for a comedy show," he called over his shoulder.

Atobe fumed. "How dare-"

"He did have a point," a soft, familiar voice said in his ear. "It was quite amusing." Fuji, of course, coming to put his two cents in.

"I'm not in the mood right now, Syuusuke," Atobe warned. "Tezuka, it was your serve they broke. How the hell could you let them do that?"

Tezuka, still standing close by, crossed his arms over his chest. "It takes two to screw up a doubles match, as I think we aptly demonstrated," he retorted.

"Yeah!" Kikumaru inserted, coming over to Tezuka's side. "You need to learn where the hell you should be! If you had been in position, half of those shots wouldn't have gotten through."

"And the other half wouldn't have gotten through if Tezuka had been playing his role," Fuji retorted sweetly.

Kikumaru glared at his classmate. The two usually avoided outright confrontations in the Tezuka/Atobe war, but when they clashed, it tended to be nasty. Fuji rarely incited, but when he did, people tended to remember it.

Oishi, ever the peacemaker, put a calming hand on his partner's shoulder. "It's neither of their fault. They just don't know how to play doubles. Some people just aren't good at it." His words, intended to sooth, had the opposite effect.

"Are you implying I'm not good at something?" Atobe hissed angrily.

Tezuka didn't say anything, but his eyes narrowed slightly, apparently offended as well.

The peacemaker of their team raised his hands in a request for peace. "What I actually mea-"

"Is we aren't gifted at doubles." The flat stare Atobe gave Oishi would have frightened the hell out of anyone who didn't know him well.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Oishi knew him well enough to cringe and wilt slightly under the glare before straightening himself in indignant anger. The vice-captain frowned deeply. "It isn't as if-"

"I think that's quite enough, Oishi." Tezuka's cold, slightly stiff voice was something which only his best friend could recognise in an instance.

Kikumaru frowned. "Anyway! It isn't Tezuka's fault if-"

"Kikumaru, you too." Tezuka's low, commanding voice made the hyperactive half of the Golden Pair pause in mid-sentence, mouth opened and a hesitant look slowly dawning on his face.

Atobe was already in the last stages of reaching total anger and he glared at anyone who so much as dared to look in his direction. It was effective until he hit Fuji, who let the look slide off him in the same way dogs shake off water from their coats. He had long since realised that it was difficult to try and pin someone with his stare when said person didn't have his eyes open. No staring matches could happen. One of these days, he would give Fuji his trademark 'Atobe Glare'. The one that made first year students look like they had stepped on the tail of a sleeping dragon and were regretting not clubbing it to death when they had the chance to.

"Saa, practice makes perfect, ne?"

The diva glared at Fuji some more, feeling extremely put upon. People simply _did not_ insult him in the public with so many of his teammates and supporters staring. Not only had it been an unpalatable loss that day, he was sure that his reputation would be totally sullied in the rumour mills by morning.

Tezuka turned to their coach with what Atobe would call his constipated look. "Ryuuzaki-sensei, I'm-"

She sighed deeply. "I think that should be enough. Tezuka, Atobe... I didn't think placing the two of you in doubles would be a good choice, but I was hoping that you would prove me wrong."

At this, Atobe turned to regard her with a fierce frown. "I-we can do it! We just-"

"We'll need to practice more, Ryuuzaki-sensei," Tezuka sounded as if he was politely suggesting to her to take his advice into serious account. "Simply throwing us on the courts and asking the both of us to play doubles is a poor strategy. As good as we are at singles, the differences between doubles and singles tennis are still many and varied."

The other star player of their team turned to glare at the captain. "Can't you let me finish saying what I want to-"

"I see nothing wrong in-"

"_Boys_!"

There was an amused grin on Fuji's face. Atobe scowled darkly at his best friend, the look he shot him promising much revenge for his terrible attitude at a later time.

Ryuuzaki crossed her arms over her chest, praying for patience. She was just about ready to take the two and smack them upside the head. "I am not stupid enough to let you humiliate yourselves like that again. We still have two more games today, and if you're not careful, I'll put you both on reserves and call out one of the other team members."

Everyone blinked, amazed that she was threatening to bench both her best players. No one had thought she was that mad.

"We'll be playing Kakinoke after lunch, so I want everyone to think and regroup. Okay?"

"No, Ryuuzaki-sensei," a voice said, cutting through.

Everyone turned to see Inui, standing there with his pen and paper. _Click, click, click..._ He fiddled with the pen, pushing it up and down, extending and retracting the ballpoint.

"What is it, Inui?" she asked curiously. "Are you saying I should let these two idiots play together again?" It was a sign of how annoyed she was with Tezuka and Atobe that she was insulting them in public. Usually she left her "cute" nicknames to Nanjirou or Momoshiro, people whose personalities grated on her nerves.

Tezuka and Atobe twitched in unison, for once synchronized. Fuji put a restraining hand on Atobe's arm, reminding him to keep quiet.

"Kakinoke was defeated... by Fudomine. We play them in the finals."

It was Atobe who asked the question that was on everyone's minds. "Fudomine? Who the hell are they?"

Inui had the answer ready.

"I went to scout out Fudomine's match," Inui began, his prized notebook tucked securely underneath his arm. "They're now a completely different team from last year's Fudomine. All of their current members are new regulars, except for the third year captain. The key factor of their success is the masterful leadership of their captain, Tachibana Kippei. Also, the six unknown second year members beat Kakinoki in straight sets."

Atobe raised an eyebrow. "Straight sets? Is Fudomine really that fantastic a team or has Kakinoki actually regressed, Inui?"

"According to what I can see, and comparing it to my data, Kakinoki actually improved, as compared to last year. Fudomine, however..."

"Hmmn," Fuji tilted his head to one side, chin propped in his right hand. "This looks interesting."

"We'll never lose!" A first year member's loudmouthed comment caught the regulars' attention.

Atobe turned to stare at the first year boy who had decided to attach himself to his side since the day he entered the club.

"We can't possibly lose to an unseeded beginner! We're Seigaku!" The annoying first year continued as if he was a member of the regulars and not just a normal club member. "We-"

"Horio!" A tall, gangly boy standing next to the noisy one shook his shoulder hard.

The boy called Horio was about to continue talking when he glanced up and noticed something in the background, causing his jaw to fall open ungracefully in shock. Atobe glanced up, and finally noticed what had caused the alarm in the two first year students.

The Fudomine team stood just a little further away, every single member carrying a look of pride on their faces.

"Now isn't this Fudomine?" The diva smirked.

The boy standing in front of the rest of the team stepped forward with a somber look. That was followed by a brief staring match between him and Tezuka, while both boys appeared to gauge the other.

"I'm Captain Tachibana from Fudomine." The other boy finally spoke, extending a hand at the same time.

Tezuka took his hand without any hesitation. "I'm Tezuka. Captain of Seigaku."

"Let's have a good game later."

"Ahh," Tezuka nodded, releasing the other's hand. "Sure."

Atobe smirked. "Of course we're going to have a good game."

This effectively turned everyone's attention to him. Exactly what he wanted. _Perfect_. Atobe caught Oishi frowning from the corner of his eyes, and Tezuka's features tightened in what he knew was the only telltale sign of the other's irritation at his impromptu behavior.

"I'm Atobe Keigo."

There was a brief moment where the Tachibana's eyes widened. One of the second year students behind him moved forward but was stopped by another.

"Nice to meet you." Tachibana gave Atobe and Tezuka both a brief nod before he started moving off, leading his team towards the tennis court they were supposed to meet at later.

Atobe narrowed his eyes at the other's obvious display of nonchalance, then shrugged. The other had already showed signs of recognizing him. It was a pity that he was cowed enough by Atobe's mere presence that he had to be nonchalant about it rather than awed at seeing his greatness in person.

* * *

Ryuuzaki stared at the boys who were stood in a semi-circle around her, waiting to hear what she had decided for the line-up. She had learned her lesson from the first game, knowing that another punishing loss would do little for Seigaku's moral. That meant...

"Okay, everyone! Doubles 2, Momoshiro-Kaidou! Disappoint me, and you're doing fifty laps!" She paused for a second, knowing that the two were going to throw a fit, and she was right.

"Doubles -- with him?" Momoshiro asked immediately, jumping back from where Kaidou was hissing in disgust from across the circle.

"I don't have many options, Momoshiro. I'm not letting Echizen play after that last debatable," she said, dropping a disapproving frown on the first year, who merely "che'd" as he pulled his brim down lower. "Doubles one, Oishi-Kikumaru. Show people what Seigaku's doubles really are!"

The Golden pair grinned at each other, bumping fists in triumph. Kikumaru was itching to play after sitting on reserves.

"Singles Three, Fuji. Singles Two, Atobe. Singles One, Tezuka. Show me your best games."

Atobe was, as always, torn when he heard that he was in singles two. It was something that was thrilling, to know he'd be more likely to play, but singles one was a more prestigious place. It was probably why Ryuuzaki kept switching him and Tezuka back and forth, to keep their carefully cultivated truce in tact. It was such a pity she just didn't acknowledge he was better, and ask him what he preferred.

Ryoma, though, looked extremely put out, annoyed over the fact that he would be on reserve.

_Tough, chibi_, Atobe thought. _Seigaku fields the best Singles line up in the nation, so you'd better work on your doubles game._

Glancing over at Momoshiro and Kaidou, he almost sighed. The two were in each other's faces, threatening about what would happen if the other screwed up. It was giving Atobe a headache.

"Are you okay, Atobe?" a concerned voice asked.

_Kawamura, of course_, Atobe thought. His classmate was always so empathetic. 

"Looks like I'm going to get to play," he said, nodding toward Kaidou, who was being pulled away from Momoshiro by Oishi and Inui. "That pair isn't going to work at all." He rubbed the center of his forehead, wishing he had thought to taken something for it. Frowning wasn't anything he'd give them the satisfaction of seeing.

"Well..." Kawamura was hesitant to say anything nasty about anyone, but he knew as well as Atobe that Momoshiro and Kaidou got along like oil and water. Nervously twitching his hands, he changed the subject. "Your head is bothering you, isn't it? Can I get you something?"

Atobe smiled at him, satisfied that Kawamura was as he always was -- painfully eager to please. It was such a nice change from all the idiots he had to put up with. "Something to drink. Money's in my bag, in the usual place."

"Sure thing. Your usual?"

"Of course."

Kawamura pressed a hand on Atobe's arm in a fashion that only he'd be allowed to get away with. There was nothing invasive about his touch, merely friendship which Atobe understood was important to the usually shy boy. "How about you and Fuji come over to my restaurant after for a victory celebration?" he asked.

Atobe saw the question being asked through Kawamura's offer. "Of course we're going to win. Doubles 2 is a write off, but we should win everything else," he said confidently. "Of course, we'll come after. My driver can bring us -- but we're not getting into any wasabi eating contests with Fuji." He shuddered, remembering the one time the tensai had talked him into that. He seriously wondered if Fuji had any taste buds.

Kawamura's smile was as brilliant as the amused laugh he released, and Atobe wished that the power player hadn't been ousted from the team. He would have been a good doubles player, able work with the others had they been able to realize that his "burning!" persona wasn't the real Kawamura. 

There were a few special people in his life-- people like Fuji and Kawamura, people who shone bright and caught his eyes. Those, he would treasure, but it was something they might never discover in their entire lifetime. He suspected that Fuji knew, because Fuji was sly and clever in his little ways, but Kawamura was a different issue. Kawamura was an honest boy, and he was smart, because he saw in Atobe what others had obviously missed.

He wasn't trying to think good of himself here, even though he did that often enough. It was true. Kawamura had a special talent, and it enabled him to see things in people others chose to either overlook or deigned to notice. Atobe knew what talent he possessed was something which very few people would want to admire openly, since he was flamboyant in his ways.

But Kawamura wasn't afraid to admit it, and neither was he afraid to support Atobe. It was this thing... this courage and belief he saw in the other boy on the first day they met in the class they shared.

Fuji was his best friend because he chose to follow Atobe, and he amused the diva on several different levels. Kawamura was a friend because he followed, but he wasn't stupidly following Atobe either. He was smart, kind and gentle. It would simply take a deeper look from other people to understand what lay underneath the two-sided personality.

What was true to Kawamura was something people overlooked easily, and that was their loss.

"Atobe," the kind and slightly nervous smile his friend offered him was a relief to look at, apart from Momoshiro and Kaidou's heated argument and sulky expressions. "Here's your drink. Are you feeling any better?"

He shook his head with a graceful smile, accepting the drink with a small nod. Being around Kawamura always made him feel better.

A voice piping through the loud speakers made any further comment unnecessary.

"We will now commence the match between Seishun Gakuen and Fudoumine Chu. Would the players please assemble on the courts?"

End: Chapter 7


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Momoshiro glared at Kaidou as the mamushi took the place behind him on the court. He had no clue in hell what Ryuuzaki was trying to pull off, but he did know he wasn't happy with it.

Was she trying to make him a laughing stock? The chances of him and Kaidou being able to win a game together were practically nill. Doubles partners had to have a certain rapport, as the game with Tezuka and Atobe had proven. It was amazing that their prized buchou and famed diva had actually lost, but that went to show that strong singles players didn't always translate themselves well into doubles. Winning with Echizen had been a fluke -- he couldn't see Kaidou agreeing to drawing a line down the middle... but maybe it would be worth a try?

"Yo, mamushi! Which half of the court do you want?" he asked, hoping against hope that Kaidou would get the point.

Kaidou gave him a glare that would wilt flowers, tugging on the green bandana he had wrapped around his forehead. "That's not how you play doubles," he said.

"But-" Momoshiro started to protest.

Kaidou hissed, his eyes narrowing. "We're playing doubles here, stupid. You'd better learn quick, because I don't intend to lose."

"Neither do I!"

"Then pay attention!" Kaidou snapped back. "We're not doing anything stupid, like yelling 'ah un!'"

Momoshiro glared. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Only because it was so stupid your opponents couldn't believe you would actually dare do it!"

Momoshiro couldn't hold it in anymore, and lowered his racquet to his side, stalking over to grab Kaidou by the neck of his jersey. "You are annoying me, mamushi. Keep your mouth shut!"

"Seigaku! Please return to your positions!" the referee yelled from his seat, sounding a bit shaken. It wasn't unusual for players to provoke each other, but teammates usually got along. This wasn't anything he had been expecting.

Inui, on the sidelines, scratched notes down in his notebook quickly, muttering to himself the way he did whenever he was absorbed in something that fascinated him.

"This is bad!" Horio said. "Why didn't they put Echizen with Momo-chan-senpai again?" he asked, staring as the hissing mamushi shook Momoshiro's hand off and went to his place, while Momoshiro straightened his shirt nonchalantly before casually walking forward as though nothing was wrong. Only the mistrustful glare he cast behind him gave any indication of his true feelings.

"Echizen will probably never learn to play doubles as he has very little ability to cooperate -- Momoshiro has the potential, though. The doubles player pool available is very shallow, and Ryuuzaki-sensei is experimenting," Inui explained. "This should be interesting."

Horio began to grumble about how unpleasant Kaidou was and how unfair it was to expect Momo-chan-senpai to work with him, but Kachiro and Katsuo quickly shut him up, covering his mouth. Ryoma, who was sitting on the bench, rolled his eyes. Atobe, who sat next to Fuji on the end of the bench furthest from Tezuka, overhead the entire conversation.

"Interesting is one way to put it," Atobe said. "Bets, Fuji?"

"Close loss," Fuji replied immediately, having analyzed the situation. "They know each other's tennis quite well and should compliment the other. They'll figure out how to work together and start to make a come back, but I think Ishida and Sakurai actually know doubles and won't let them manage to win. It's too much of a disadvantage to overcome."

Atobe stared hard at the two second year players. "I'm not taking that bet. If they manage to get over this loss, they might make a decent second doubles pair."

"Don't see that happening anytime soon," Fuji said easily.

"It might take them some time," Atobe began confidently. "But lots of practice can be enforced, if Sumire-chan can get them to stand on the same side of the court without killing each other."

Fuji tilted his head to one side and observed the two boys glancing warily at each other across their court space. "Hmmn... I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

His best friend gave him a glance out of the corner of his eyes. "The match is about to start. I guess this should be a pure entertainment moment for today."

Fuji looked as if he was going to say something about Atobe and Tezuka's doubles match earlier that day, then decided to close his mouth with a decidedly amused smile. The match did progress as he thought, both boys doing much to display their open dislike for each other throughout the game. Their opponents were shocked at first, before rapidly gaining the superior smirks of people who knew that they were facing rivals which ranked far below them.

Atobe didn't appear to mind the defeat their Doubles 2 suffered, giving Fuji a look that said pretty much most of his opinion on the match they just watched. Momoshiro and Kaidou appeared to be more furious at their loss than at each other, and although they were doing a fair share of blaming each other, they appeared to be united for once over the ungainly thrashing they got from their opposing team.

"Close loss." Atobe murmured, amused. "We're both right."

Fuji stared contemplatively at the Doubles 1 team from Fudomine lining up before the net. "We'll win this set."

"And the next two." The diva only gave the Golden Pair standing on the courts a cursory glance. "I trust that you won't lose Singles 3, will you?"

The prodigy of their team laughed, low and soft. "Of course."

"The first year brat would have to reconsider where he's aiming for after seeing us play." Atobe gave Fuji an easy smile, reclining in his somewhat uncomfortable seat. "Our singles slots are all filled up. He might have the talent to stay on the team, but he's not going to make his way into a singles position. At least, not permanently. Even if Sumire-chan favours him, she can't put him in Singles 1 or Singles 2. And she certainly can't put you out of Singles 3. So a change of career for the brat would be wise at this point."

"You're thinking about discouraging him?"

"Hmmn..." Atobe uncrossed then crossed his legs again with a slightly bored look. "I'm just thinking of giving him a wake-up call."

Fuji smiled, sweet. "Tezuka won't like it."

"Not my problem if he can't see eye to eye with me."

"Saa."

"Hush, Syuusuke." Atobe smirked, inclining his head in Tezuka's direction. "Someone won't be happy if we distract him from his best friend's match."

Fuji only shook his head with a neutral smile, then turned his attention to the match which had just started on the courts.

Atobe had never have much interest in doubles before, but after the rather humiliating defeat he had suffered (which was not his fault, damnit -- if Tezuka had listened to him, they could have won), he found himself watching the nationally ranked Golden Pair with something approaching interest. He may not have liked Oishi, and Kikumaru was guaranteed to get on his nerves, but he knew they had talent.

Overhead the sky started to darken, with clouds sweeping in from the south, but none of the players paid attention as Fudoumine's Uchimura and Mori took the positions across the net. They seemed ready to play, and Atobe crossed his arms across his chest, faking a yawn. "Poor souls," he said.

Fuji tilted his head, stretching slightly. "Maybe I should go start my warm up."

Atobe glanced up the sky, wondering. Kikumaru's acrobatics wouldn't be as effective with a wet surface, and the game might be called off if the court got too soaked. "Wait a bit. You might get a reprieve."

"One set match! Seigaku's Oishi to serve!" the referee called.

Kikumaru settled down low, smiling a bit as he waited for his partner. He didn't even turn his head as Oishi served, and the game began.

Atobe immediately saw the difference that made the Golden Pair unique. There was a trust between them, an ability that made them able to communicate without words or signs. Oishi was a steady presence, backing up the flashy and daring Kikumaru, while Kikumaru counted on Oishi to be where he needed him. They didn't trip each other up, and they didn't blame the other on the rare occasion when a ball got by.

It was pretty obvious why he and Tezuka hadn't done well, on watching Seigaku's star doubles team. Uchimura and Mori didn't even know what hit them.

Watching them just made Atobe angrier. He was a better player than both -- his skills were stronger -- and so were Tezuka's. If Oishi and Eiji were that good, then the two Seigaku stars should at least have been able to defeat a mediocre team like Gyukurin.

"Game, Seigaku! 6 games to 2!" the referee pronounced after what was hardly a game.

The rain, which had begun during the match, seemed to drizzle through the skies uncertainly, neither wanting to downpour nor taper off. Atobe could feel the humidity, and barely restrained from shuddering. He hated this kind of weather, and it put him in a foul mood.

"Do you want to warm up some, Keigo-chan?" Fuji asked.

"I think the games might be postponed," he said hopefully. He hated playing after the court had gotten wet.

"I don't think so. It'll be letting up in about ten minutes or so."

Warming up meant getting out from under the shelter, but Ryoma had vanished, taking his first year entourage with him, and Momoshiro and Kaidou had disappeared as well, which left the bench area feeling decidedly unwelcoming to Atobe. Not that he cared, but warming up with Fuji now would be better than warming up alone later. From the look in Fuji's eye, he could tell Fuji was in the mood to utterly destroy his opponent.

It would be fun to watch.

They met their opponents when they neared the sinks; they were two second year boys, one with dark red hair which fell across his face in a manner that covered his left eye and the other with dark, chin-length hair filled with purple highlights. They were volleying two tennis balls at a breakneck speed between themselves, proud of their skills and ignoring the crowd of people who had gathered to watch.

Atobe raised an eyebrow in surprise when Ryoma walked between the two boys, cleverly blocking their shots, leaving the two of them confused.

"Someone's showing off over there."

Fuji only smiled. "Not a bad move, though."

"Smart kid," Atobe admitted, then stretched. "Shall we show them how _real_ tennis players warm up?"

"Ahh." The prodigy's brightened smile could possibly blind. "That'll be fun."

And they did.

Even their opponents paused to stare as they volleyed not two but three balls while Atobe kept a suitably bored look on his face throughout the warm-up practice as they stood at five feet closer together, heightening the need for good reflexes. Ryoma appeared to be disgusted by their open display of talent and stared at them hard, something close to annoyance shinning in his eyes.

Atobe, even with his eyes off the two tennis balls heading his way, raised his eyebrows at Ryoma, smirking to himself indulgently. Fuji was quiet, a small smile on his lips as he returned shot for shot without any misses.

"How boring." The year one student wandered off moments later, muttering under his breath.

"Yes, this is rather monotonous." Atobe agreed, giving Fuji an amused look.

"Maa."

"Let's go, Shinji." The redhead from Fudomine stared at them hard before turning to leave, his companion following after delivering a vague look.

Atobe turned to Fuji the moment their opponents left. "Are you warmed up enough or do you want to try something else, Syuusuke?"

The other boy only shook his head, catching two tennis balls with his racket. Atobe rounded up the last one, smiling a bit to the crowd which had gathered.

"I think we should get back to the courts. My game should be starting soon," Fuji announced.

They made a quick trip back to the courts noting that Fuji's opponent, the redhead, had already changed out of his warm-up suit and was speaking to his captain in lowered voices. The rain that had been drizzling minutes back appeared to have lightened up, leaving them with small pinpricks, splashes of cold on their faces and arms. Atobe gave his best friend a gentle squeeze on his shoulder before patting it lightly.

"Leave no mercy." The diva made sure to keep his voice low and out of Tezuka's hearing range. "And I'll give you an equally good game in return with Singles 2. Meanwhile, Tezuka can sit out and chill his ass because he won't get to play."

Fuji couldn't help chortling softly at the insult, and the closed-eyed smiling boy shook his head gently. "Play nice, Keigo-chan."

"Since when do I never?"

They shared a smile which only they would understand, and Fuji left for his side of the court with a small nod in Tezuka's direction. The captain nodded politely in return whereas Ryuuzaki beamed at the well-known prodigy of their team, giving him a thumbs' up.

"Don't worry, Sumire-chan," Atobe's cheerful comment made the coach twitch. "Syuusuke won't disappoint us."

"Atobe! You're not supposed to call me Sumire-chan!"

He smirked at her, but let his eyes go to the court where Fuji was idly stretching.

"Singles Three! Seigaku's Fuji! Fudoumine's Kamio!"

The two went to the net to shake hands, and Atobe noticed Kamio's narrowed eyes.

"So you're a tensai? What does that mean, anyway?" he asked impudently.

"Saa," Fuji shrugged, his pleasant smile never leaving his face.

"This will be fun. I've never beaten a tensai before," Kamio continued, a smirk playing on his lips. His racquet rested on his shoulder confidently, and he stood with his weight on his toes, leaning forward belligerently.

Fuji didn't rise to the bait. "We'll see, won't we?" He held out his hand, smiling pleasantly. "Let's have a good game, and play our best."

Kamio blinked in confusion, taking the offered hand in a bit of surprise. He was used to psyching his opponents out, and getting into a good rhythm from the very start, but it seemed that Fuji let everything wash over him like water. "Let's," he agreed, his expression a bit puzzled and off-balance.

It was all Atobe could do not to start laughing out loud, then and there. Fuji was already messing with his opponent's head.

Kamio served, and it was a nice serve, but Fuji returned it easily, pinpointing it across the court. To all their surprise, Kamio managed to get to it.

"I'm Fudoumine's speed ace!" he proclaimed, returning it with ease.

"Is that so?" Fuji asked easily, watching the ball go by and making no effort to go after it. Atobe could practically hear the wheels turning in his best friend's head as Fuji considered the best way to humiliate the prideful second year.

Beside him, he heard Ryuuzaki sigh. "Can't he ever play without toying with his opponents?" she asked.

Ryoma, sitting beside her, sniffed, obviously not impressed.

"He plays with his food, too," Atobe said. "I think he's going to finish this one quickly. If the only thing Kamio has going is speed, it's not going to be very interesting." Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Inui scribbling in his notebook. Inui was never able to figure out Fuji, which amused both of them greatly. Atobe could have told him the key -- just figure out whatever would have been the most amusing, and that was what Fuji would do.

Sadly, Inui didn't seem to have a very good sense of humor.

Kamio served again, and Fuji returned it, and as Kamio prepared to return, Fuji's eyes opened and his stance and racquet position adjusted.

The people who had been on the team for a while sat up, recognizing the impending play. It always seemed like magic to them, and no matter how many times they saw it, it took a person's breath away.

Kamio made his return, but Fuji's racquet came down, angling beautifully, and then the ball was moving, before striking the ground at Kamio's feet. It rolled along quickly, completely unperturbed as Kamio began to swear fervently, but Fuji's smile spoke volumes.

"What the fuck is that?" Kamio demanded.

"Calm down, Kamio!" Tachibana called from the sidelines. "I warned you about that move -- it's one of his triple counters."

Kamio grumbled, glared at Fuji, and returned for his next serve. The game took fifteen minutes, and Fuji took it all, six games to love, since he apparently was in a mood. Ryuuzaki looked pleased but a bit confused, Tezuka was immune, and everyone else looked like they'd just seen a train wreck, since the methodical way Fuji had demolished the Fudoumine player had been chilling to watch.

"It's nice he played seriously for a change," Ryuuzaki said after the game ended.

"He's still not serious. Kamio wasn't enough to make him play all-out," Atobe said, looking over at his shoulder at Ryoma in warning.

The younger boy appeared to let his comment slide, adjusting his cap and rolling his racket back and forth over his thighs in an impatient gesture. He was getting all twitchy from being made to sit in as a reserve, and in Atobe's honest opinion, well, it was simply too bad for him.

Fuji had approached the shelters by then, reaching over to touch Atobe on his shoulder lightly. "Your turn."

The diva returned his friend's smile. "Good job there."

"Ahh, it's nothing much, really."

Both shared a smile again, earning more irritated looks from Ryoma. The younger boy turned to Inui, who just happened to be sitting beside him.

"Does your data say anything about Atobe-senpai and Fuji-senpai's strange relationship?"

There was a pause as silence filled the Seigaku resting area. Inui appear to look slightly stricken that Ryoma had chosen him, of all people to ask about something of that category. He was proud that the first year student trusted his data enough to ask him (or found him convenient enough, anyway) but it really wasn't a wise move to answer at the moment.

Not with the way Atobe was staring at them.

"Echizen." Fuji's soft, almost lilting voice made a few people freeze. He smiled at the younger boy, reaching over to curl an arm around Atobe in an unmistakably intimate gesture. The latter didn't even flinch. "What does this say to you?"

Ryoma stared for a moment before shrugging. "That maybe you're both very good friends, or you're gay."

At this, Atobe laughed out loud, genuinely amused by the first year's insolence. He walked out of Fuji's single arm embrace easily, lowering his head to stare at Ryoma. "And maybe you need a change in perspective, little boy."

"Atobe!" Ryuuzaki's voice was sharp, but not totally reprimanding.

Everyone shot the older boy slightly nervous looks, but all Atobe did was shrug and move off towards the court, looking relaxed and amused by the turn of events back at the shelter. Ryoma caught Tezuka giving him a disapproving look, and a few others gave him looks of pity, knowing that Atobe had marked him out rather spectacularly for singular punishment.

The key point was, Ryoma hadn't figured that out yet and it wouldn't hurt. Not at the moment, at least.

Fuji appeared to be pleased with Atobe and Ryoma's reactions, sitting down by his racket bag with a pleasant smile. Ryoma was left sitting beside him as Momoshiro left to get a drink, while Oishi and Kikumaru wandered near to Tezuka's side. The younger boy didn't appear to be intimidated in the least bit, drinking from his can of juice nonchalantly.

"I have a piece of advice for you." Fuji began, earning a glance from Ryoma. But the prodigy's opened-eye and amused gaze was riveted to the courts, where Atobe's match against Fudomine's Ibu Shinji had already started. "Don't ask questions which will earn you trouble."

Ryoma made a soft 'Che' before finishing his can of drink and leaving the seats. Fuji only beamed, feeling satisfied with his match. Oishi appeared to give the prodigy of their team a tensed look, knowing that there would be trouble in the days to come if Fuji's interest in Ryoma persisted. He could either create trouble for the younger boy, or the situation could turn a different way.

Best not to go that far now.

"Ibu Shinji to serve!"

A quick glance to the scoreboard assured Oishi that Atobe had kept his service game.

Oishi knew that Atobe on a good day was a thing to be wary of, but when Atobe was riled and in a mood to show off, people needed to duck for shelter. Apparently between having to put up with Ryoma, Fuji's rather spectacular performance, and the humiliation of his doubles debut, Atobe was in rare form.

Ibu Shinji would have done well to just resign.

From the sidelines, the girls the club had attracted ever since Atobe became a regular were screaming his name as he waited for Ibu to return his serve. Tachibana, over on Fudoumine's bench, was watching with a slight furrow in his brow, apparently seeing the light. This was going to be a complete and utter route.

"Shinji, take this seriously!" he called, warning his player not to mess around.

Oishi sighed, knowing that a second ranked player wasn't going to have a snowball's chance in hell of dealing with Atobe when he felt like showing off. "Tezuka, I don't think you're going to be playing today."

Tezuka didn't reply, merely stared as his rival smirked at Ibu.

Oishi wanted to bury his head in his hands and cry.

"You're good. Of course, Tachibana-san said you're good, but I'm good too. I think you're not taking me seriously... maybe I should make you take me seriously..." Ibu was muttering.

Atobe rolled his eyes as his opponent muttered, wondering if the boy was senile at sixteen. He watched with a bit of interest as Ibu's feet left the ground in a distinctive pattern that he vaguely recognized from seeing the bratty first year serve so often... twist serve? No...

Kick serve. A newer, less powerful version, made for people who couldn't handle the demands of the twist serve. Obviously Seigaku's first year was the better player, so handling Ibu was going to be like sleep walking.

Usually he wouldn't bother to waste his time using any of his special moves on lower class players, but today he could feel eyes on him, wondering about his abilities. He knew that his reputation had been hurt by the absolutely heinous doubles match, and it was time to show them what Atobe Keigo was about.

Perfect Singles.

"Ten minutes," he said, glancing over at Tezuka challengingly even as he returned a ball without looking. "I'll finish this match in ten minutes!"

End: Chapter 8


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Sushi at Kawamura's restaurant was always a treat, especially if Kawamura wasn't the one doing the cooking. He had ways to go before he mastered his father's trade, and while Fuji was fond of his tendency to be heavy-handed with the wasabi, Atobe was not.

Fuji, Atobe and Kawamura had grabbed one of the tables in the corner, settling in comfortably. Fuji and Atobe were sharing one side of the table, leaving the other to Kawamura. All three were in rather thoughtful moods.

"It was an interesting day, wasn't it?" Fuji said, sipping idly at his tea. "Quite enjoyable."

Atobe was of more mixed opinion. "I do not want to go through that again."

"So you're not going to play doubles? Pity, it was so much fun to watch."

"Syuusuke." Atobe's low voice was filled with overtones of faint warning, and the prodigy smiled in return.

"Maa," Fuji turned to pick up a piece of wasabi maki, making Atobe wrinkle his nose in an obvious sign of disgust. "You have the talent for it. You just need the proper training."

"And a decent partner."

The soft laugh from his best friend was a familiar sound. "Tezuka's a good player. You have admitted that much."

Atobe sniffed indignantly. "Not as good as me, obviously. That's why he can't keep up."

"Urm, guys..." Kawamura looked a little harassed by their soft argument, but was smiling all the same. "Let's tuck in?"

Fuji appeared to let the kind-natured boy's comment slip by, but flashed him a small smile in apology. "You're not without faults during the game either, Keigo-chan."

"I'm perfect," the smaller boy watched as Atobe shrugged off his comment with a displeased frown, and started attacking the sushi almost viciously.

The prodigy smiled, then stole a sushi from Atobe's plate.

"Hey!"

The younger boy leaned in close, resting his head against Atobe's shoulder and gazing up at him with sly, half-lidded eyes. "We still shocked them good today, didn't we?"

There was an amused laugh from the diva as their topic of conversation took a hundred and eighty degrees turn. He patted Fuji's hair lightly before turning back to his food, satisfied. "They never knew what hit them." The proud voice proclaimed what was on Fuji's mind as well, even as Kawamura began to turn an interesting shade of scarlet.

"We're-" Fuji coughed in a purposely delicate manner. "Gay, just like Echizen declared."

"Fujiko!" Kawamura glanced around the shop, despite knowing that it was empty but fearing that the current conversation would be overheard.

"It's a joke, Taka-san." Fuji straightened himself and continued picking at his food with a pleasant smile. "The team won't know what hit them, though. Everyone will be wondering if that was true or if we're having fun messing with people's brains as usual."

"Exactly. And that Echizen brat better wisen up soon," Atobe began thoughtfully, tapping the tip of his chopsticks against his lips. "Or maybe, he's not going to get a chance to."

"You're going to play against him?" Fuji knew his best friend well enough to second guess his thoughts.

"Oh, yes." The diva smirked. "He'll get a taste of what playing against the top singles player of Seigaku is like. Maybe he'd know how to feel remorse after that. Someone needs to put him back into his proper place."

"And you're going to be that certain someone, aren't you. Keigo-chan?"

Kawamura would have wrung his hands if he could. Fuji looking like he didn't particularly care if Atobe thrashed a year one player was a dangerous situation for Ryoma, indeed. Usually, the prodigy would either help or discourage, depending on his mood for that day.

If he was neutral... Kawamura guessed that all he could do was hope for the best.... and maybe, if Atobe was feeling kind that day...

...he wouldn't thrash the year one student too badly.

* * *

Momoshiro Takeshi prided himself on being a good friend, and he knew now, more than ever, Echizen Ryoma was going to need friends -- even if he didn't know it.

Atobe Keigo had always fascinated the second year, sometimes repelled him, but since becoming a member of the tennis team, Momoshiro had found himself listening to the flamboyant third year more often then not. He was talented and watched after those whom he declared his, and he always seemed to know what the hell was going on. Besides, he was hell of a lot more interesting than Tezuka.

Not that Momoshiro disliked that captain -- he just liked Atobe better.

Still, he knew Atobe had the capability for cruelty, and it seemed that Ryoma had brought that streak to the surface. Momoshiro could understand that, wanting to crush the first year before he could rise up (having tried it with little success himself), but he knew that if Atobe did it, he would do so with unrelenting determination and unmitigated success.

The only time Momoshiro had ever seen Atobe fail was yesterday's doubles match, when he thought on it.

The day after the Prefectural matches was a Monday, and Momoshiro rode his bicycle to Echizen's house to offer the first year a ride -- and hopefully some advice. He doubted how much would actually sink in, but at least he could give it a try, right?

He waited for five minutes before Ryoma shuffled out the door, looking more asleep than awake. His cat-like eyes were heavily lidded, and he hardly seemed to be aware of where he was going -- in fact, he walked right by Momoshiro.

"Oi, Echizen!" Momoshiro called in agitation, unable to believe how the first year continued to meander along, completely oblivious to the world around him. "Say hello at least!"

Ryoma blinked a few times, coming to. Yawning, he turned his head to see his senpai, and then rubbed at his eyes, obviously not believing what he was seeing. "Momoshiro-senpai? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you! Che!" Momoshiro huffed, pushing the bike along idly so he could maintain a pace with someone who was walking at the rate of a drunken turtle. He found it impossible to believe that their first year ace was so incredibly lazy.

"Couldn't it wait?" Ryoma asked grumpily. He shifted his tennis bag to his other shoulder.

Momoshiro considered washing his hands of the whole mess, and leaving Ryoma to his fate, but his conscience wouldn't allow it. "Echizen..." he said warningly.

Ryoma must have actually caught the warning in his voice, because he turned his head enough to pay attention. "What is it?" he asked a little irritably.

"Echizen, stop annoying Atobe-senpai," Momoshiro said. "He's a really good player, but he has a really bad temper. You don't want to make him mad at you."

Ryoma sniffed. He loved annoying good players -- he annoyed his father every night, and the stupid old man was supposed to be one of the best.

Momoshiro knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"I don't really care." Ryoma yawned, as if to make his point. "Besides, it's his own fault if he wants to get mad at me. And he's gay."

Momoshiro choked on thin air. "Echizen! Some things are better lef-"

"Whatever."

With that, the first year student continued plodding along, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Momoshiro gave an exasperated sigh before getting onto his bicycle and followed the younger boy, knowing that no amount of advice would work on him now. At least, not when he wasn't even keen to listen in the first place.

"Get on the bicycle, Echizen! I'll give you a ride to school!"

* * *

Atobe surveyed the courts the moment he stepped past the gate, satisfied to see a few of the first year students scurry out of his way almost immediately. The brat of their team was standing in a corner of court A, testing the tension of his racket strings with a bored look.

Fuji came to a stop behind the diva, his usual pleasant smile a handy mask.

"Today?" The soft, murmured question and close proximity raised a few more stares from the non-regulars who had obviously seen and heard the story of what happened on the competition courts just a few days ago.

If there should be chaos on the tennis courts, Fuji always believed that they should do it Seigaku-style. All out with no regrets and more casualties than one could count. Not to mention Ryuuzaki wishing that she had murdered the whole lot of her team and gotten herself a permanent contract with an aspirin production factory.

A slow smirk surfaced. "Yes. Now, in fact."

The prodigy reached over to touch Atobe on his left arm lightly, smiling sweetly. "Don't be too mean, Keigo-chan."

Atobe snorted and leaned in close to murmur by Fuji's ear, smirking when the whispers started up around them and some of the girls watching by the side of the courts squealed. "I'll try. And you're having too much fun out of this whole 'gay' thing, aren't you?"

Fuji only laughed, soft, then nudged Atobe in Ryoma's direction. The younger boy was giving them a nonplussed look, obviously unimpressed by their open display of affections.

"I'll try not to have too much fun, Keigo-chan. After all, we still have to keep our reputations intact, ne?"

"Good." Atobe gave a soft snort before walking towards Ryoma. The younger boy's face took on a decidedly suspicious look. "Echizen."

"...yes?"

"Let's have a match now."

A sudden stillness rolled across the courts, as everyone's attention was immediately riveted on Atobe and Ryoma. Kawamura glanced around, noting that Tezuka, Oishi and Kikumaru were nowhere in sight. Kaidou was away at court D, where Momoshiro and Inui were warming up at as well. Other than Atobe and Fuji, Ryoma was the only other regular in court A.

Atobe had planned this well.

"Sure," a confident smirk surfaced on Ryoma's face almost immediately.

Right after they took their positions on court B, the younger boy shot Atobe a look.

"I'm going to make you cry."

Atobe smirked. "Tears of pity, maybe," he said, drawling the last word. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked.

Ryoma shot him a suspicious look. "Fine."

"I just want to be clear that you're in perfect health when you lose to me pitifully," Atobe said, smiling a bit. He glanced over at Fuji, nodding at the referee's seat. "Be so kind, Syuusuke?"

"Of course, Keigo-chan." Fuji climbed into the chair easily, slouching down a bit comfortably as he waited for them to decide the serve.

"I'll let you serve and have the choice of courts," Atobe said graciously. "Consider it a favor."

Ryoma glared at him. Atobe was acting too much like his father for his liking. It would be a pleasure to beat him.

"One set match, Echizen to serve!" Fuji announced, his soft voice still somehow piercing.

Around them, the fence started to line with people who happened to be wandering by and Atobe's fangirls. People hushed, because Atobe rarely played matches, and everyone was curious about how good the new first year regular was.

"Give me your best shot," Atobe encouraged. The expression on his face irritated Ryoma, making him want to wipe it off forcibly.

Ryoma served, feet rising as he performed his signature twist serve. Atobe smirked, watching the ball go by, the way so many of Ryoma's opponents did when they first saw the stunning move.

Around them, the crowd was quiet, unable to believe that Atobe had missed. Atobe never missed.

"15-0," Fuji called out, no sign of any emotion on his face or in his tone.

"I thought it was going to be faster," Atobe mused, staring at where the ball landed against the fence. "Still, the angle's not bad. I can see why most average players are scared of it... but I'm not average." Tossing his head back, the sunlight made silver highlights in his hair. "I'm exceptional."

"Bastard," Ryoma said.

"Heard it before. That's the only point you're going to get this whole game. Consider it my gift to you for making the team," Atobe said.

Fuji snickered into his hand.

Ryoma's eyes flashed, and he served again. Atobe smiled and leaned to the side, easily managing to avoid getting whacked in the face. The return came hard and quick, and Ryoma wasn't even able to react as the ball whirled right by him.

"15-all!"

Atobe smiled as the crowd cheered. "Ready to learn a tennis lesson?"

Momoshiro heard the cheers of the crowd, something that was as familiar to him as breathing. Glancing across the courts, he saw the commotion on B court, and tried not to wince. Seeing Atobe and Ryoma stare across the net at each other was enough to scare him.

"Inui-senpai, can this menu wait a bit?" he asked. Inui had been planning on running him through a practice to increase his accuracy but right now, the sick feeling in his stomach left it hard to concentrate. Ryoma had just gotten in way over his head, and didn't even know it.

Inui blinked, but then saw the reason for Momoshiro's request. "Ah. Yes."

"I hope Atobe-senpai is in a good mood today." Momoshiro's worried tone must have somehow conveyed itself to Inui, who adjust his glasses with a slight frown.

"We can only hope."

Meanwhile, back on the courts, Ryoma wasn't faring as well as he thought he would be. He thought this was his chance to really show the stuck-up third year he wasn't a joke. Apparently, the other was even keener to make him into the joke of the club. To say he was angry would be an understatement.

_But he was Echizen Ryoma!_

There was no way in hell he would give up in the middle of a game. As much as he hated struggling so early in the match, he was sure he could turn the tables, somehow. He had amazing adaptability when it came to opponents, and although Atobe was strong to the point of suffocation, there should be some way to trip the older boy.

"Game- Atobe Keigo, two games to love!" Fuji's carefully neutral voice was raised to a volume that traveled above the excited whisperings and murmuring traveling among the crowds surrounding them. "Echizen Ryoma to serve."

This was his second service game and Ryoma was agitated to find himself losing even that as well. The score currently stood at two-nil, and it was evident that it would hit three-nil soon. Ryoma found his service game passing in a blur, as he tried his best to return the pin-pointed shots Atobe gave.

"Game- Atobe Keigo, three games to love!"

Ryoma gritted his teeth in frustration.

Suddenly the volume of hurried whispers around them went up as if someone had just turned a dial. Ryoma risked a glance to the side, noting Tezuka, Oishi and Kikumaru approaching the courts. A serve shot by him in a blur, causing Ryoma to frown.

"30-love!"

"What's going on here?" Tezuka's calm voice commanded a type of presence which nobody could deny.

Even Atobe paused before his next serve to give Tezuka a look, as if daring him to stop the game. Ryoma glanced at the captain in annoyance, wishing that he would go away. This was his match! He would play it to the end, regardless of whether he was going to lose it or not. And it was still too early to tell! He still had a chance to recover games from Atobe, if he worked hard at figuring out Atobe's pattern for pin-pointing shots to certain locations.

"They're having a friendly match." Fuji's simple reply made Tezuka stare at him hard. "Echizen agreed to the game."

"Yes," Ryoma muttered, wishing that everyone would simply hurry up, get out of the way and let him continue the game in peace.

Tezuka looked on disapprovingly, his silence the only given affirmation that they could continue the game. Atobe smirked at the captain before delivering a serve, easily smashing down Ryoma's return with no remorse. Oishi was looking more and more worried by the moment, while Kikumaru hung onto his arm nervously.

"Game- Atobe Keigo, four games to love!"

The faint frown on Tezuka's face was the only sign of his displeasure as someone changed the score on the board.

By then Ryoma was starting to seriously consider what would happen if he lost. It happened every day, but that was to the old man. He was used to losing against him -- but he wasn't used to losing against anyone else.

Atobe Keigo was smirking at him.

Ryoma wanted to smash the ball through the diva's teeth... and he would have, if he'd been able to. However, Atobe seemed to be reading his moves, and compensating for them before he even played them. It was worse than playing against Inui.

"You know," Atobe said, "I can see exactly what you're thinking." His left hand pointed up at his striking blue eyes, and Oishi flinched.

_Insight_. Atobe was using his blasted Insight, and that meant the first year was done for.

"Mada mada da ne," Ryoma shot back characteristically.

"He's toast," Kikumaru said glumly, clinging to Oishi even more firmly. "It's so cruel!"

Oishi was forced to agree. Atobe was in his usual fine form, and it seemed that Fuji was definitely in on it as well. For some reason, the two third years had taken it into their heads to put Echizen Ryoma into place, and they were doing so with quite a bit of noise. "Tezuka, do something," Oishi said.

Tezuka shook his head. "Interrupting the match now would only cause more damage," he said, even though his knuckles were white. He didn't say who the damage would be done to, and it was clear he was being very careful not to rock the tentative treaty he and Atobe had struck.

"It might be educational to watch," Ryuuzaki said, coming over behind her team.

The three regulars turned to see their coach, hoping that she would be able to put a stop to it. Instead, she seemed just as intent on watching as the rest of the club. "Ryoma's eyes take me back..."

"Huh?" Oishi asked.

"It's like looking at his father," she said, staring a bit dreamily as Atobe claimed the fifth game. "He forgets about everything except tennis, and beating his opponent."

"You knew Echizen's father?"

She waxed nostalgic on Samurai Nanjirou, and Tezuka turned his eyes back to the game. At a 5-0 count, Atobe only had to take one more game before Ryoma was completely humiliated.

Ryoma fumed, trying to think of what to do. His split step was barely keeping him in the game, and Atobe had no problems dealing with the twist serve. Everything he threw at the diva was sent back effortlessly. It was infuriating, and he hadn't scored a single point since the first one.

Dammit, he had to get at least one more! There was no way Atobe was going to beat him like this!

Atobe saw the frustration in Ryoma's eyes, a familiar sight to him. Now was the time to completely break him.

Serve...

The serve went to Ryoma's right, just a bit beyond his reach. There should be no way the annoying first year should be able to get it, even with the split step.

Ryoma smiled suddenly, racing, and his tennis racquet changed hands...

A cross court shot, and Atobe blinked, surprised.

Nitouryu.

"0-15!" Fuji called, sounding amused again.

And it dawned on Tezuka right in that instant _who_ Ryoma's father was. Echizen Nanjirou was the man who invented the Nitouryu, who stormed the tennis scene a couple of decades back and suddenly dropped out of sight. It was rumored that he was heavily injured and therefore unable to play anymore. There were also rumors of his child, and how he was going to groom his son into a talent who would do him proud.

Echizen. Ryoma. Why didn't it occur him earlier? How many tennis players were called Echizen, anyway?

That issue aside, Atobe appeared to be amused by the sudden stroke of inspiration from the younger boy. But the amusement also darkened rapidly as he gave the younger boy a smirk, once again raising his left hand to touch fingers lightly to his brow.

"Well well, interesting evolution, Echizen." Atobe sighed and shook his head. "But not enough. Definitely not enough if you're facing me."

"It's still too early to tell." Ryoma's stubborn answer made Atobe laugh.

"That's going to be the last point you're going to score."

Ryoma frowned but Atobe ignored him and prepared to serve again, glancing at Fuji. The prodigy appeared to be amused, and tilted his head to one side before murmuring softly, almost to himself.

"Someone's going to get spanked."

Tezuka shot the resident prodigy a look, then turned his attention back to Atobe, who had by now pin-pointed a serve which even Ryoma's Nitouryu couldn't reach in time. He could see the frustration building in the younger boy's eyes, as he strived almost desperately to return another serve.

"30-15!"

Another ace was delivered as Ryoma once again failed to reach the serve in time.

"40-15!"

"And this is it, _boy wonder_." Atobe's voice held heavy overtones of amusement, and the words 'boy wonder' came with a decidedly sarcastic air.

The diva served again and Ryoma watched, feeling stricken and upset as the tennis ball bounce just out of his reach-just-he could almost reach it! But unfortunately, the tennis ball ricocheted past him, grazing the edge of his tennis racket lightly.

"Game and match, Atobe Keigo!"

End: Chapter 2 


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Atobe," Tezuka's cold and stern voice stopped the diva in his tracks. "Meet me after practice. I want to speak to you."

The diva gave him a cursory glance over the back of his shoulder. "Ahh."

The captain frowned as if in disapproval at his answer. Atobe shrugged, then offered Tezuka a smirk which said that he knew he had won, despite being made to run a hundred laps after his match was over. Kikumaru had made an unusual amount of noise, obviously distressed over Ryoma losing. Momoshiro looked grim but he dared not offer any comments, wanting to help Ryoma but not knowing how. Oishi was worried sick and fussed over the younger boy to the point where the other told him to get lost. Inui was quiet, and even the scribbling of his pen had stopped at the moment the match ended, unable to complete the record. Ryuuzaki offered some comfort to the youngest regular on their team, but not before she had given everyone a scathing look that hid the despair very few saw.

Fuji knew. That was why he went after Ryoma from the moment the younger boy stalked off after practice that day, and spoke to him in lowered voices before coming back to Atobe's side.

"What did you tell him?"

"To wisen up," Fuji's easy reply made Atobe narrow his eyes, but he shrugged, satisfied with the game he had earlier on.

"Tezuka wants to speak to me." The diva could barely keep the contempt out of his voice. "I'm sure he's going to start whining about how I shouldn't do this to a first year student and how I broke rules and how I'm always a troublemaker. Hn."

Fuji didn't doubt it. Tezuka's script was as predictable as the sunrise, and Atobe's responses were, while a touch more creative, just as rote. "What are you going to do?"

"What can he do to me? Kick me off the team? Hardly. I'm the student body president. I can make his life just as hellish as he can make mine."

Fuji tried not to laugh too hard at that idea. Atobe never brought that power to bear, tending to shuffle those responsibilities off on his classmates, but when it came down to the line, he was the single most powerful student in the entire school. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why the balance of power had lasted after Tezuka became captain.

"Saa." It was Fuji's all-purpose reply.

After changing in the locker room, Atobe wandered over to Tezuka, who was still half-dressed. Tezuka was smoothly fastening the white shirt that they wore under their winter uniforms, ignoring how the room hushed as people saw Atobe actually dare to approach his nemesis.

"What do you want, Tezuka?" he asked, leaning against the locker next to him, which happened to belong to Kikumaru. Kikumaru, half-dressed himself, opened his mouth to protest that he needed to get at his stuff, but Oishi clamped a hand over the red head's mouth, shaking his head in warning.

"We need to talk," Tezuka said calmly, his fingers managing to button the top of his collar with little effort. Atobe thought it made Tezuka look like a nerd, to be so meticulously tidy. He, of course, tended to leave the top button undone to display a tantalizing glimpse of his smooth, perfect skin.

"So talk," Atobe shot back.

"Not here."

Atobe rolled his eyes in exasperation. "This isn't about that game, is it? I'm perfectly within my rights as a regular to challenge another regular to a match. Echizen agreed."

"Not here," Tezuka said, and his voice was so low it was practically a growl. He grabbed his bag, stuffing the rest of his clothes in it, and Atobe blinked in surprise as he nodded to the door. "Come."

"Syuusuke, I think I might be a bit late tonight. Don't wait up for me," Atobe called over his shoulder as he followed the Seigaku captain.

Everyone blinked in surprise and turned to stare at Fuji, who was still smiling as he packed his bag as well as Atobe's. "Tezuka's really mad this time, isn't he?" he asked idly.

Oishi could tell Fuji was right. He had never heard Tezuka so on the verge of snapping... with the possible exception of that doubles match. "This isn't good," he said.

Kikumaru, forgotten, squirmed, trying to get free of his partner's hands. Oishi had gone rigid as Tezuka and Atobe had their minor spat, and he hadn't been able to break free. Now that the two top singles players were gone, there was no reason for Oishi to keep a hold of him, really! He pulled a bit, but Oishi seemed to have turned into a statue. Finally he did the only thing he could think of, and his tongue darted out, licking Oishi's palm.

"_Eiji!_"

* * *

"What do you want?"

Atobe's haughty voice would have made anyone who didn't know him well fly into a rage. Instead, all Tezuka did was stare at him with narrowed eyes.

"Are you aware of the consequences of your actions?" The captain crossed his arms and leaned against the side of the building with a distinctively displeased look.

They had left the locker room a while back with Tezuka leading the way to somewhere behind the school buildings, which were all abandoned at this time of the day. The setting sun cast a false, warm atmosphere on the both of them, making Tezuka's hair glow like honey while Atobe's dark grey hair shone with gold highlights.

"I know what I'm doing."

"It appears," Tezuka began, frowning slightly, "that you still do not _understand_ the consequences of what you did. And neither are you showing any signs of clear thinking before acting on your own will."

At this, Atobe's eyes widened and he glared at the other, offended. "How can you say that when it's perfectly clear that I have done nothing wrong? It is within _my_ rights to challenge Echizen to a match. Furthermore, he accepted! I didn't force him to do anything he didn't want to! If you're so distrustful of me, you can check with him!"

"Stop being so self-conceited."

"What!"

"Listen," the captain narrowed his eyes at Atobe, "and think carefully about what you've done."

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"What did I just say about listening?"

Atobe stared at Tezuka in disbelief. "Stop being such a stuck-up prick! You're not always right and you should know that! Just because I happen to be-"

"Atobe," the other boy's frown deepened, "we're not talking about-"

"Yes, we are! You're always saying '_I think_ you should do this', '_I think_ you should do that', ordering people around and making people do laps just because you're the team captain! You know what? I think _you_ are the one who have ego issues and _you_ are the one who needs to do some careful thinking about your own actions before lecturing other people!" The older boy paused for a moment, as if attempting to regain part of his lost composure. "I know how good it feels to hold power in your hand but using it to control others is not the way to earn yourself popularity, Tezuka. The key to people's hearts is not just simple determination and steadfastness or a stringent attitude. You have to _charm_ your way into people's hearts-"

"I'm not you."

"Unfortunately! _Precisely_ because you're not me, and that's why you're not winning any popularity contests! I think you have a lesson or two to learn about _human communication_-"

"I'd rather not take lessons from you." Tezuka countered, staring at Atobe with an indescribable look.

The other looked outraged. "I'm not offering! Who'd want to teach _you_? Oh, please! I have far more interesting and constructive things to do with my time than attempt to teach an antisocial personality how to have a normal conversation without resorting to ellipses and single word replies! You know what's called creativity? Personality? Charm? You have _none_ of that-"

"I don't need them."

"Oh, stop being rude while interrupting me in between every five sentences I say!"

Tezuka actually raised his eyebrows, slightly, before giving Atobe a pointed look which indicated that he wasn't any more polite by shouting non-stop.

The diva glared, his voice turning frosty and bitter. "I really don't like you, Tezuka."

There was nothing but silence for several long moments.

"Well," Tezuka adjusted his glasses almost absentmindedly. "I don't like you much either."

The moment froze, and the two stood on a precipice, each daring the other to jump. Their breathing was the only sound as they waited for the other to reply, but then Atobe smiled. "That's good to know. That means we can drop the formalities. I don't like you, Tezuka, but at least I treat you with respect - except when you're being a hypocrite."

Tezuka's breath hissed between his teeth as he tried to keep tight leash on his temper. "I am not a hypocrite."

"Really? I'd say you are. You won't acknowledge that I'm as good as you are, won't acknowledge that I could be right. You're so damn set in your ways that you're a frigging iron rod. Iron becomes brittle, and it'll break if hit the wrong way."

"I know how good you are," Tezuka said back.

"Really?" Atobe countered. "If you did, things wouldn't be the way they are." Atobe didn't run from the truth. He hated those who did, and perhaps that was why Tezuka's blindness so infuriated him. He knew, perhaps somewhere inside, how things could have been different, if they would have been able to cooperate.

But Atobe also didn't regret what couldn't be.

"You're good, Atobe, but your pride gets in your way," Tezuka said, finally voicing his chief complaint with his rival. How many times had Atobe's arrogance gotten on his nerves, and he had remained quiet, because he had been expected to?

"And that's why you are blind. My pride is why I'm so good. And your pride blinds you. If you weren't so fucking pigheaded, we'd have won that match."

"That was not my fault-" Tezuka's voice dropped another three degrees.

"It certainly wasn't mine." Atobe took a deep breath, trying to remind himself that yes, murder was illegal, and that he had reputation to maintain. It was one thing to be a diva - it was another entirely to be a brute. "You wanted to talk. I'd rather not have to work with you at all, but you made it my business. I know what the hell I'm doing."

"You're destroying the career of one of the most promising young tennis talents before it begins," Tezuka said sharply.

Atobe laughed. The idea was ridiculous. "Really? I didn't see it that way. If I can destroy him by humiliating him that easily, then he's not that promising, is he?"

"A good senpai guides his kohai. It's true Echizen may have needed to have his ego knocked down to size, but that was not the way to go about it -"

"Wasn't it? Did you see the look in his eyes as he got up? Right now, the only thing he wants to do is hide. He needs to be strong enough to climb up, and remember his pride."

"Like you?"

"I'm all about pride. If he can face me again, he'll be getting somewhere."

"You honestly expect him to beat you?"

"Hell no. But he needs to remember what tennis is about - it's not about being better - it's about being better and enjoying it. I don't know why the hell he's playing, but it's not because he likes the game. The technical skills are all there, but it's rote."

Tezuka didn't doubt Atobe's assessment. Atobe's observational skills were beyond question. "You were cruel."

"Cruel to be kind, Tezuka. Cruel to be kind. And if I have fun doing it, so much the better."

"This isn't about you, Atobe. It's about Echizen. And what you have just done might damage him for good."

Atobe sighed. "And that's precisely what I'm talking about. If Echizen doesn't have the guts to stand up and face me again, then he's probably not as promising as you think, hm?"

"You're not getting-"

"No. _You _are the one who isn't getting what I'm saying, Tezuka." The diva almost rolled his eyes. "Who was the one who said something about listening just now?"

Tezuka frowned slightly. "I'm listening." To suggest that he had zero abilities on listening while lecturing other people to do the same was the least flattering things the captain wanted to hear. Furthermore, it wasn't true. He did listen. He could see where Atobe was going with his justification, but there were still some things he wanted to clear up with the other.

"No, you're not." Atobe snorted. "Here, let me make it simple for you. Echizen has an ego that's comparable to either of ours, right?"

The bespectacled boy only gave him a look.

Atobe sighed, exasperated. "Okay. Now, you're worried that I've smacked him too hard and he's not going to get up again after I put him down now, right?"

"Yes-"

"Well, look at it this way," the diva offered Tezuka one of his rarer smiles. "He's supposed to have the talent and ability to become the leader of the new generation following us. He's good, but not good enough yet. And meeting me now is good for him, because if he was to reach the top in Seigaku after we leave and suddenly face someone like me smacking him down, he might not stand up again. I'm his senpai, I'll always be around. I'm above him and that's why I'm better. An opponent on the courts simply isn't the same, Tezuka."

"You should limit what you did-"

"I gave him my best. Or part of my best, anyway." Atobe smiled. "And that's the best kind of respect I can give him, don't you think so?"

Tezuka only stared at him, finally seeing how Atobe's mind worked for the first time. Even if it was only a small portion of him, and it concerned only tennis, he could see what had structured this strong and individualistic person who climbed above the rest easily.

It wasn't just his Insight. Atobe simplified things around him to the point where it concerned only him. With that, he had a clear view of the world. It also meant that he was the best kind of friend and worst kind of enemy a person could have. Single-minded would be a wrong way to describe him, but what he was run very close to that.

"You should have been gentler on him."

Atobe laughed, honest and clear. "I think, on the courts, you should know me better than anyone else, Tezuka."

The captain was quiet.

"Since when have I ever been gentle on you? I respect you, Tezuka, and that's why I always give you the best. Do not deprive Echizen of that."

In the end, it came down style, Tezuka thought. Atobe's style, so flashing and bold, tended to overwhelm those who weren't prepared. Tezuka preferred to think things through more carefully, while Atobe used his gifts to analyze and make split-second decisions.

And Atobe had been right - Tezuka didn't give him the respect he deserved. Atobe was better than he gave him credit for. Atobe was so black and white, Tezuka knew. People either loved him or hated him, with no middle ground. There was a simplicity to Atobe, despite the way he made things complicated. Tezuka had fallen in the trap of staring at the glitz and listening to Atobe's sarcasm, and ignoring his abilities. He had always believed that he would eventually beat the other boy, since he had won the one game they had ever finished... but what if that was a wrong assumption?

He needed to think on it.

"Perhaps," he said with noncommittal. "But it wasn't your decision to make alone."

Atobe was surprised at Tezuka's compromise. Twilight was nearly upon them, and he glanced at his watch. They had actually spoken for nearly an hour, and while they both had actually lost their tempers, they hadn't killed each other yet.

"Maybe. Echizen is our replacement. He'll never be as good as we are, but Seigaku will need a new pillar next year," he said.

"Atobe - I don't want him falling in with your crowd. The last thing he needs is to become a follower."

"There's nothing wrong with my crowd!"

"A pillar can't be a follower. He needs to be a leader."

"I don't want him to be one of your loyal lackeys, either," Atobe shot back, offended, before a smile curved his lips. "Follow the rules, never break them. I don't see that happening, but isn't that what you'd like?"

Tezuka sighed, feeling like he was holding everything together by the tail. Right now he and the diva actually seemed to be negotiating a tenuous truce, and saying the wrong thing would completely shatter it. "He's going to be obsessed with you... which is exactly what you intended. But I don't want him to become one of those who listens to everything you say. He needs to think on his own."

"Like Fuji doesn't?" Atobe snickered.

Tezuka almost twitched. "Echizen is not Fuji. Fuji is a special case."

"Thank god," Atobe muttered, trying to imagine having another Fuji on his hands and shuddering. Fuji was a wonderful friend, but there was such a thing as too much of a good thing. "Echizen is special as well. I've already got his attention - why don't you do the same?"

Tezuka stared at him, considering. He had been thinking of playing Echizen at some time, and learning about his heritage had intensified the idea, but doing anything Atobe suggested was against his nature. "I'm the captain. I already have it."

Atobe's smile was confidant. "He's already played the best in Seigaku... perhaps having a target a bit more within his reach..."

The time Tezuka did twitch. "You are not better than I am!"

Atobe's rolled eyes gave his opinion of that. "Keep believing that if it makes you happy. But even if I do agree to keep from trying to actively persuade him that I am the one who is right, as far as he's concerned now, I'm the best. And he's the kind who only goes after the biggest target."

The captain appeared to think about Atobe's words for a moment before replying. "I'll speak to Ryuuzaki-sensei about this."

Which, in other words, also meant that he wasn't going to do things the way Atobe did. The diva shrugged, nonplused with Tezuka's reply. It was fine with him. Whatever way the other boy wanted to deal with the youngest regular on their team...

It wasn't his problem.

"The ball's in your court." Atobe replied simply, then turned to glance at the rapidly darkening horizon. "It's late."

"I know."

Atobe smiled, satisfied. "I'm leaving then. See you in school tomorrow."

That actually made Tezuka pause. Atobe noticed the somewhat odd expression on the other boy's face and frowned.

"Stop giving me that look."

"Wha-"

"Unlike what you would like to think, I'm a civilized and cultured person, Tezuka." Atobe sighed, clearly exasperated. "I may not like you much, but I'm not rude and neither do I dislike you enough to be a total asshole over something as small as saying goodbye."

Tezuka stared at the other in surprise for the briefest of moments before shaking his head faintly. "No... It's just- I wasn't expecting it."

"What? Wasn't expecting me to be civilized?"

"Not that. Just... give me some time."

This time, Atobe was the one who gave him a weird look.

"Whatever you want, then."

The way the rapidly fading sunlight hit Atobe's eyes at an angle which made them glow. The diva turned and started walking off, leaving behind Tezuka, who was still standing by the school building staring after the former with a slight frown between his eyes.

Was it just him or had Atobe appeared different for the briefest of moments? Was it just him or... no, he didn't want to think about that. He had barely gotten over the shock of being able to cooperate with Atobe for the very first time. If he was to start thinking that Atobe was actually likeable as a person, there must be something wrong. It must be the lateness of the hour, and he was tired after a day of practice, too.

He still didn't like Atobe Keigo.

And frankly speaking, that should be enough. For the moment, at least.

End: Chapter 10


	12. Chapter 11

Edit (19/11/2005): Thank you myrrdinowl for pointing out the repetition error! (And thank you to Fanfiction-dot-net for screwing up the formatting.)

Chapter 11

On the surface, Ryoma appeared to be the same when they gathered again for practice the next day but Atobe could see that the younger boy was clearly still disgruntled and upset with the defeat he suffered before the whole tennis club. Ryoma had an ego that was pretty impressive, even by Atobe's standards. To have cultivated that kind of self-confidence, Atobe was sure that Ryoma must have been used to winning, not losing.

"So," Fuji's soft voice was filled with overtones of amusement and curiosity. "What did the two of you talk about yesterday?"

Atobe was sure that Fuji had waited the whole day just to ask him that question in the locker room before they join the others for practice. It was probably a matter of habit for the prodigy to do something of that sort since no question from Fuji ever came without some thought behind it.

"We talked about Echizen. Then about what we're going to do with that brat. About how much we hate each other, how he absolutely refuses to give me respect, and how he's not a better tennis player than I am."

Fuji's smile actually widened. "That's quite a lot to talk about."

"Unfortunately." Atobe gave his best friend an almost wry look in return. "He wasn't a particularly bright conversationalist."

"Sometimes it's what isn't said that is important," Fuji pointed out. His eyes wandered over to where Tezuka was standing by Oishi watching the practice as per usual. Occasionally his eyes drifted over to Echizen thoughtfully, and he seemed to be considering something.

"True, but trying to get a complete sentence out of the ice cube is like trying to get blood from stone," Atobe said, yawning delicately. "Did you enjoy the match yesterday?"

"Which one?"

Atobe turned a suspicious eye towards Fuji. He wouldn t put it past him to have been eavesdropping, but knew his friend probably had too much respect for him to be that rude. Outright spying was too cliché. "Fuji."

"You played well, but you held back some. I thought you weren't going to."

Now Atobe was the one who found his eyes wandering to the first year who was ignoring everything around him. Ryoma's movements were sharper today, but something about his pace was off. He seemed a bit rattled. Atobe was surprised he had come to practice at all.

"He's not ready to see my full glory," Atobe said haughtily.

"I would have liked to watch," Fuji replied a little wistfully. He'd only seen Atobe really play against Tezuka, and they were never allowed to unleash themselves due to the restrictions Ryuuzaki had imposed during their first year. It made sense to keep them from tearing each other apart, but sometimes Fuji wondered if it was keeping them from reaching their true potential.

"You'll see it one day," Atobe promised.

"I'm keeping you to that."

Practiced dragged that day, with Atobe feeling sluggish. He didn't really want to run through the basic drills — yesterday's match had made him want to tear someone apart, and after humiliating Ryoma, he was in the mood for a long, hard game to display his skills.

If he knew what Inui had planned, he might have changed his mind about being bored. After watching the spat in the locker room with horrified amazement (Inui honestly hadn't expected Atobe and Tezuka to come to blows until they reached Kantou), he had analyzed the probable outcome of what had been said after they had withdrawn.

The results had actually worried him. The unspoken truce which kept the team from breaking apart was about to be fractured into a million pieces. He had spent the evening devising a new menu designed to keep Atobe and Tezuka from killing each other. Inui, as the only neutral member, had taken it upon himself to do what he could to keep things from coming to blows — give the team a common enemy.

The basic theory behind it was beautiful in its simplicity. If he could wear the entire team out, they wouldn't have any energy to tear each other new orifices to breathe out of. Besides, it would be fun watching the regulars run in terror, and he did have some recipes for juices he'd been meaning to try.

However, there was one problem. Ryuuzaki told him to wait for a week. Something else was going to happen... something big. As Inui glanced around the court, he noticed Tezuka's eyes settling on Ryoma, and had a pretty good guess what it was. Inui honestly pitied Ryoma, for being caught in the cross-fire of the war. When he saw Tezuka walking up to Ryoma after practice, he almost flinched.

One week. If Ryoma could survive the next week, Inui would implement "Operation Inui Juice."

Strange how a glass of green liquid might be the key to team unity — but people tended to bond under adversary. That way, maybe they would finally achieve the long hoped for peace everyone was looking forward to.

* * *

When it became apparent that Ryoma did survive Tezuka, and was looking better at the end of it, Inui thought that it should be around time he unleashed the 'common enemy'. Maybe 'looking better' weren't exactly the correct words to describe Ryoma, and he was as annoyed, if not more so, as he was over the match with Atobe. Inui didn't officially know the results of Tezuka's match with Ryoma, but it didn't take a genius to make an educated guess.

Needless to say, Ryoma was now destined for a long and hard struggle on the courts and off. He knew about the younger boy's ambitious nature. In fact, he had marked that characteristic out with a highlighter and indicated 'IMPORTANT' next to it. It ran him parallel to Atobe in some ways and to Tezuka in others. Ryoma might not be a precise mixture of the two best members on their team, but he was doing pretty well at displaying everything the two were known for.

He was arrogant, but he wasn't behaving like a diva yet. He stuck by the rules, but there were also the occasional rule-breaking moments. Inui thought he knew where Ryoma would head in a few years' time, but maybe, it was still too early to say anything about his progress. First, he had to get over Atobe and Tezuka.

And then he would improve.

"We'll be doing stamina training today which, in other words, means laps." Inui's announcement made several of the first and second year non-regulars groan, with a rather pithy addition from Momoshirou. "Thirty laps, but before you start, let me tell you the rules."

"Rules?" Momoshirou's bewildered look raised a grin from Inui.

"All those who failed to complete their laps will have to drink this, the Penal Tea. It's perfectly good for your body and it has various essential vitamins that'll help you with your training."

After the last incident with the 'perfectly healthy and natural vegetable juice' from Inui, everyone looked suspiciously at the Penal Tea, which had a dubious color at best. It was viscous. It... it looked sick. Some of the club members cringed, while a few others gave him wary looks.

Inui knew that reaction. He had seen it before, and he was a little guilty to admit that seeing the fear made him feel omnipotent. Now everyone had more reasons to fear the data tennis player. The Penal Tea wasn't the original version he planned to release, as he had indicated on the training menu he gave Ryuuzaki. In order to achieve greater team cooperation, he had sacrificed the untested version and launched this new one instead. He was pretty sure that this one would raise more self-defensive instincts than the last one did.

Inui started everyone on the laps, and watched them carefully, noting how the year ones finally collapsed by their eighteenth lap. He handed them the drinks, and watched with a kind of near maniacal amusement as the three first year students dropped onto the ground after screaming, twitching uncontrollably from the effects of the drink.

That alerted lots of looks from those who were still running, and the second year students appeared desperate to continue running. By the twenty-fifth round, they too collapsed and were given the treatment of Inui's Penal Tea, leaving only the regulars and Kawamura running.

"From now on, you have to get it in under a minute!" Inui announced.

"WHAT!" some of the louder members of the team squawked in protest.

"Keep running!" Tezuka ordered grimly, even though he cast a glance over at the team's manager with a bit of suspicion in his eyes. Atobe, not far behind, remember the spicy, sour concoction he had tasted that once, and slyly began to pick up his pace.

The distance around the court was 240 meters. Five times meant they would be doing more than a kilometer. Inui knew that after running the equivalent of over 5 kilometers, even the regulars would probably be ready to drop. Adding the time factor might just be enough to do them in, especially the few who needed to work on their stamina. In his hand the large pitcher of Penal Tea shone ominously in the afternoon light, a silent threat to those who weren't fit enough to manage the chore.

"I'm not drinking that!" Kikumaru yelled, peddling his tired feet rapidly, absolutely terrified. He knew he was in the most trouble.

Momoshiro and Kaidou, in rare agreement, began to run more quickly, matching each other step for step as they tried to keep from falling victim to the sadistic Inui's machinations.

"Momo! If you run too quickly, you'll tire yourself out," Atobe warned, taping his kohai on the shoulder as he passed him by, his breathing deep and even. "Pace yourself."

"Yes, senpai," Momoshiro said.

Atobe slanted Tezuka a sly look as he caught up. "Were you the one who approved this?"

Tezuka just stared at him before turning his head forward again.

"Thought so. So you're still declining to learn how to get along with people? You know, I thought on it, and I decided that it would take someone as talented as I am to actually teach someone as socially stunted as you seem to be how to interact with the rest of the human race," Atobe continued, unable to resist needling his rival.

"Atobe!" Oishi said, coming up beside him. He was having a harder time, but the harried look on his face made it quite clear he wasn't about to tolerate Atobe's attitude.

"Joking, joking. Calm down, Oishi, and breathe," Atobe said, falling back a bit more deeply into the pack to run next to Fuji. Fuji held out his hand, and Atobe took it, lacing their fingers together. The fangirls, who never missed a single practice, screamed in pleasure.

"You don't think..." Arai said, watching from the sidelines with a slightly dropped jaw.

Inui somehow managed to get out a data book without spilling the tankard he was holding, and started scribbling. "There is a 50 percent chance that they are trying to mess with our heads and delighting in the confusion and chaos it is causing."

Arai relaxed, but then realized exactly how low a percent that was. "What's the other 50 percent, Inui-senpai?

"That they are serious and don't give a damn who knows."

Arai swallowed.

Meanwhile Ryoma caught sight of a racket just ahead. A wicked grin lit his face as his eyes settled on the only person still in the hunt who wasn't wearing a regular's jersey – Kawamura Takashi. The shyer boy was trailing slightly towards the back, but...

"Kawamura-senpai," Ryoma slowed down until he was running side by side with the very much taller boy, then caught hold of the racket and handed it over.

"Eh-BURRRRNING! COME ON COME ON COME ON BABY!"

Everyone gave the shouting boy horrified looks as he thundered past them holding the racket shouting at the top of his voice. Ryoma followed close behind, shooting Tezuka and Atobe a gleeful look while he ran past them and caught up with Kawamura.

"That brat." Atobe muttered, tightening the hold he had on Fuji's hand.

The other only gave him a reassuring squeeze in return. "Maa, let's push the pace a little, then?"

Atobe didn't answer, but tightened his grip on Fuji's hand. The latter took it as an indication to pick up his pace and did so, the both of them beating out rhythmic steps on the concrete as they ran past Tezuka and Oishi. Kikumaru gave a small squeak of rage before doing the same, and soon, everyone was running at their pace.

Momoshirou caught up with Fuji and Atobe, panting slightly. "Fuji-senpai, I thought you like Inui-senpai's juices."

Fuji grinned in return. "Ahh, yes. They're quite tasty."

The second year student gave him a bewildered look. "Why are you trying so hard, then?"

"Because it's fun." Atobe replied for Fuji, smirking. "And because we feel like it."

The prodigy only smiled in agreement before raising their interlinked hands and showing them to Momoshirou.

"You're," the younger boy gulped, "You're not serious, are you?"

"What do you think?"

"Fuji-senpai!"

Atobe grinned. "Stop teasing the poor boy, Syuusuke."

"If you say so, Keigo-chan."

Ryoma eyed the two boys a little warily. "Ne, Atobe-senpai."

The diva turned to regard the younger boy with one elegantly raised eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I think you have strange taste in boyfriends."

Both boys laughed at the same time, and to many, it was an eerie sound.

"Should I be insulted then?" The opened-eye look and amused grin on Fuji's face was a sight which many wouldn't want to see face on. Ryoma thought that the older boy definitely had to be teasing. Most normal couples would have thrown a fit to prove that they weren't mismatched.

"If you want to. Go ahead."

Atobe smirked at him briefly before lifting Fuji's hand to graze his lips over the top of the other's hand lightly. "Don't insult my beloved-"

"Atobe-senpai!" Momoshirou's distraught voice raised chuckles from Fuji.

"-friend. Really. You boys need to be more patient. Let me finish talking before interrupting my speeches." Just as Atobe finished saying that, Fuji released Atobe's hand to warp a secure arm around the older boy.

"Exactly." The smug smile on Fuji's face was a rare sight.

Momoshirou and Ryoma could only stare at the two of them in silence. The sound of scribbling appeared to intensify by a few times.

That was the problem with the two of them. They were the best of friends in school, and they were also the best pranksters when it came down to that. Who would dare to refute the president of the school's student council? Not that Atobe was an unkindly person when it came down to jokes, but... sometimes, it's better to _not_ know the truth. For all they knew, the truth might scar them far more deeply than the lies did.

* * *

He had been in a thoughtful mood all day, though only Atobe had noticed. Skilled as he was at deception, Atobe's keen eyes were able to pierce through it, and it seemed to put the diva in a quieter mood as well, though few could tell. Both of them were lethargic, a bit slower to rise to the bait Tezuka's crew dangled so temptingly in front of them, a bit more laid back about the insults and insinuations that were thrown their way.

It was a day he had half been dreading, but hoping for at the same time. Seigaku was finally going to go head-to-head with St. Rudolph's. Fuji Syuusuke was going to see his brother again.

No one saw the brittleness that lay behind Fuji's smile, the way his usual sharpness seemed to be muted as he drifted into his own thoughts. He didn't complain when Ryuuzaki set him aside as the alternate for the third round of games, knowing that she intended to have him play somewhere special for the fourth. The third round wasn't particularly difficult anyway – Akiyama Third Jr. High seemed to have done their research, but they simply didn't have the skills needed to keep Seigaku busy.

Though it had been thrilling to watch Ryoma play.

Echizen Ryoma seemed possessed, and Fuji had snapped out of his distraction long enough to watch him totally pulverize his opponent. It had been amusing – the other player thought they were getting a break, playing a first year "chibi" instead of Seigaku's famed prodigy, but had wound up facing something much more terrifying – someone who needed to prove himself.

The poor bastard hadn't stood a chance.

St. Rudolph's would be a different story. Through Fuji's mind, his brother's face flashed, an intangible image of his greatest failure.

Atobe, missing out on playing a game due to straight wins (amazing that the Momoshiro-Kaidou pair had actually managed to cooperate this time), was in a bit of a restless mood as he waited for the final match of the day. Whoever won this match would be moving onto the finals, and that would be good. It wasn't like Seigaku hadn't made it there before, but if they were going to the Nationals, they needed to take it step by step and not get ahead of themselves.

The two of them found a vacant bench near a vending machine, and Atobe wrapped his arm around Fuji's shoulders companionably. They were still playing this game – but Fuji wasn't in the mood. His body felt stiff and uncomfortable.

Atobe glanced over, and let his arm fall away. The smirk that was so much a part of his character slipped away as well. "Yuuta's here today. Have you seen him?" Atobe asked seriously. He remembered the boy, a year younger than them. It would have been impossible to forget that face after seeing Fuji's photography collection. Many of his earlier albums featured his brother prominently, but about a year ago, Yuuta seemed to fall out of them, just as he fell out of his older brother's life.

"Not yet," Fuji said.

The Fuji brothers went through a rough patch a while ago when Yuuta followed his older brother to Seigaku, chasing dreams of tennis. The reputation of Fuji weighed Yuuta down and at the same time, the younger boy was reluctant to be known as 'Fuji's younger brother' and therefore be marked off as inferior when compared to his prodigious older brother.

Atobe had always been the single child, so he was unable to understand Yuuta's plight. He had spoken to the other boy before. Yuuta was actually a very bright kid, filled with ambitions and hopes for tennis. Atobe knew that he must be inspired by his older brother, and yet... somehow, during the transition from childhood to teenage years, something had changed.

Fuji was hurt when his younger brother chose to transfer out of Seigaku. He was even more hurt when Yuuta refused to speak to him for weeks after moving to his current school hostel. Atobe was witness to all of that and he kept the knowledge inside, knowing that they weren't for him to divulge.

"We'll meet him again soon."

The distracted nod Fuji gave made him reach over to give the usual comforting squeeze on the other's shoulder. That failed to raise even a small smile from the younger boy, and he knew what he had done for the other wasn't enough. Being Fuji's best friend also meant sharing the prodigy's woes, yet Atobe found himself unable to carry the other boy's burden together with him.

"Did you notice something?"

"Hm?"

Atobe tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully, knowing that Fuji hadn't paid attention to any of the matches that day, save for Ryoma's. "All of our rival schools appeared to have done research on us."

The vaguely perplexed look Fuji gave him was an indication that he had gotten the prodigy's attention. For the moment, anyway.

"I find it strange."

"There's nothing strange about other schools scouting for information on their rival schools."

"No," Atobe shook his head. "There is something suspicious about it. I can't quite pin-point the exact source of wrongness, but..."

Fuji only shook his head with a small smile.

"Boy wonder did well today, though." Atobe smirked, then placed his hands flat on the space behind him, crossing his legs elegantly and leaning back to stare at the sky. "After disgracing himself in doubles, then put on reserves, suffering humiliation at my hands and getting thrashed by the ice cube right after that, he has become more stubborn and stronger than when we last saw him play."

"Inspired to get stronger." Fuji's smile was one which Atobe recognized.

"I believe he should thank Tezuka and I at the end of the day."

"Ahh," the prodigy of the team appeared to have restored a little of his cheer, his woes momentarily forgotten. Many would think that Atobe was the worst kind of friend to have, since he always thought about himself only but others could testify to the fact that he did care for those he cherished.

"Eh? I heard that the Fuji brothers will be facing off today!" A loud comment from someone who was passing by their seat made Atobe turn with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah. The younger brother is rumored to be a 'left-hand killer'! I wonder if they'll get to play against each other? I've always wanted to know who's better."

"Don't be stupid! Of course the older brother's better! He's the prodigy!"

The sudden tenseness in Fuji was something Atobe had been trying to cure.

"Prodigy," Fuji echoed. Many saw it as a compliment, but to him it was a two-edged sword, severing him from what he cherished most. "How many people think of me as just the prodigy?"

"Idiots. They don't even know the meaning of that word," Atobe declared.

Fuji had thought on that, many times. What did it mean, exactly, to be a prodigy? Why was he dubbed with the label so frequently when superior players like Tezuka and Atobe seemed to avoid it? What had he done to deserve it?

The end answer was painfully simple: Tezuka and Atobe, and people like them, were skilled and practiced hard to played tennis because it was something they lived and breathed to do. Fuji was naturally gifted, and saw tennis more as a pastime, something to offer amusement rather than dedication.

Prodigies could be lazy – that was what made their skills so astounding. Maybe that was why Yuuta hated him so much. Yuuta worked ten times harder than Fuji ever did, and never seemed able to catch up.

"It's not fair to Yuuta for them to say that," Fuji said softly. "How would you feel, to have to live in someone else's shadow?"

Atobe burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the idea. "I wouldn't."

Fuji couldn't help smiling. Atobe had taken his rhetorical question a bit too seriously. The very idea of Atobe living in anyone's shadow was perhaps the funniest thing he'd seen all day. If Atobe had siblings, Fuji was willing to wager that the sibling rivalry would have been the stuff of legends... but he didn't doubt Atobe would win in that case scenario.

Sibling rivalry. Sickening words.

"No, you wouldn't. And Yuuta's not me, but everyone tries to make him into me. I..." Fuji trailed off, letting Atobe think on his own. Sometimes Atobe would be able to see more clearly if Fuji's own thoughts weren't messing with his.

"Isn't it always the younger son who exceeds the older in fairy tales?" Atobe asked idly. "And after he does, he returns to cherish his older brother?"

The point was a well-made one. Fuji hated to lose, but Yuuta's hatred was ten times worse. Fuji couldn't bring himself to lower his standards – especially not for his brother – and dreamed of the day that Yuuta might be able to equal or exceed him.

But he wasn't going to stand around and wait for him.

"It sounds good," Fuji said, dreaming of a day that he would be able to speak to Yuuta without his younger brother acting like a cat that was being stroked the wrong way.

It was getting colder. Fuji pulled up the zip of his jacket, making sure it was in place. He was sensitive to temperature, more so than most, and a glance at Atobe showed that he was probably being too sensitive.

"We should consider going back," he said to Atobe. "Our next match is going to begin soon."

End: Chapter 11


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"I want to play doubles," Atobe began, staring not at Ryuuzaki but at Tezuka, "-with him."

"Atobe!" Oishi's distraught voice was already a familiar sound to the diva.

Their coach raised her eyebrows at the most prominent member of her team, glancing at Tezuka's expressionless face. "You want to play doubles? Even after losing so badly the last time? Are you sure that Tezuka-"

"Sensei-" Oishi started to interject, but was interrupted by Tezuka.

"I would like to play doubles with Atobe." Tezuka's quiet declaration sounded deafening

All the regulars surrounding their coach were silent, staring at the two top players of their team as if they were mad. Did they forget how badly they lost the last time? They practically made a joke out of themselves! Most normal people would have understood the implications behind the loss and stepped down gracefully to avoid embarrassing themselves further. It appeared that the two boys actually didn't know when to quit.

Seeing that this was a rare sign of cooperation, not to mention coordination, from Tezuka and Atobe, and hoping that there was still some space for the two of them to develop a somewhat fragile friendship along the way, Ryuuzaki agreed.

"Okay. You two can play Doubles 2 then."

Tezuka didn't share the triumphant look Atobe gave.

"Okay boys, listen up! Doubles 2, Tezuka and Atobe! Show us you have learned how to cooperate! Doubles 1, Golden Pair! Show them what national level doubles playing is like! Singles 3, Kaidou! Give them no mercy! Singles 2, Echizen! Don't let them underestimate a first year student! And Singles 1, Fuji! If you do get to play, do it seriously!"

Atobe turned to nudge Tezuka on his arm lightly, smiling indulgently. "Well. I see that you're finally ready to start learning the correct way of conducting human communication, Tezuka."

The icy look the younger boy gave him was a habitual one. Atobe shrugged it off easily and started walking towards his bag to retrieve his racket. He noticed that Fuji was once again distracted and distant, his concentration trapped on his younger brother, who was talking to someone who looked like their manager. If there was one thing that Atobe noticed right away, it was the notebook the manager was carrying.

Data tennis. Which brought some things back to Atobe's mind. He would speak to Inui later, since his match was about to start. The diva kept a careful eye on the manager as he drifted between the teammates, speaking to the first doubles pair in lowered voices and keeping a rather vile looking grin on his face.

"Syuusuke." Atobe turned to regard his best friend, who was quiet and unsmiling.

"I'm fine."

"Atobe-senpai! Are you really serious about playing doubles with Buchou?" Momoshirou's anxious look made Atobe laugh.

The second year student was placed in the reserve, and although he minded not having the chance to play for this match, he appeared to be more concerned about something else.

"Yes. He should be thankful that I'm willing to help him become less socially stunted."

They were far enough from Tezuka and his crowd that they actually failed to raise replies for his comment.

"Atobe-senpai..." Momoshirou said tentatively, "shouldn't you have played in singles?"

He shook his head, amused by Momoshirou's concern. "There is nothing involving tennis that I can't do."

"Maybe a different partner would have been better?" Momoshirou glanced over at Fuji a little nervously, not wanting to insinuate that the relationship was true, but not knowing if it wasn't. "I mean you and Fuji-senpai get along better..."

Atobe sniffed. "It'd be boring if I played with him. Besides, Fuji has something else to take care of."

Fuji gave him a sharp look, a bit annoyed that Atobe was letting the entire team in on his problem, but Inui was already filling them in.

"Fuji Yuuta, second year. Called the Left Handed Killer," said Inui. "St. Rudolph's ace – he's going to be in singles two. He claims his greatest goal is to beat his older brother."

Fuji glanced down at his hands, staring at the right hand that bore so many calluses from the tennis racquet. "I'm not left handed," he said, giving everyone a mellow smile as he held up his hand.

"Echizen is," Atobe said. He glanced over at where the first year was leaning up against a tree, completely unconcerned now that he had secured a singles slot.

Not good.

"Maybe Ryuuzaki should see about switching Fuji and Echizen?" Momoshirou suggested hesitantly.

"Too late. The match line up has been handed in," Atobe said, waving it off. He knew Ryuuzaki had done some quick scrambling to amend her original plans of going with her usual singles star line up, and the referees weren't going to let her mess with them again.

Fuji relaxed a bit, though only Atobe noticed that he had ever been tensed to begin with. He really didn't want to play against his brother because he would have no choice but to defeat him.

"I need to warm up," Atobe said. He opened his mouth to invite Fuji along, but sighed as he realized what he should be doing. "Tezuka, we need to warm up!" he called over his shoulder, starting for a clear space and not looking over his shoulder to see if Tezuka was following.

Tezuka had been speaking softly to Oishi, trying to reassure him that going into doubles wasn't a mistake. His friend wasn't hearing any of it, trying to point out that doubles and singles were really separate games. Tezuka had listened to all of Oishi's protests, and ignored them. There was no way he was backing down from the challenge.

"Oishi, please make sure everyone makes it to the court on time," he said finally, turning to walk after Atobe.

"Are you just doing what he tells you to?" Kikumaru protested, forgetting for once that he was talking to Tezuka.

The look Tezuka gave him in reply froze anything else Kikumaru might have said in his throat. "I need to warm up, and Atobe is my partner," he said, unaware of how wrong those words sounded to everyone who heard them.

Watching him walk away, Kikumaru finally found his voice. "Did... did they work on their doubles game at all?" he asked uneasily.

"I think they intend to do it now," Oishi said, unable to suppress a sense of dread.

Kikumaru groaned. "I'm not going to be the one to tell them it takes more than thirty minutes to learn doubles!"

* * *

"We're going to win this time." Atobe's arrogant posture was rather telling of how well the both of them would fare. Tezuka only gave him a customary glance before he started stretching.

"It looks like I have to train you on something else at the same time now. First of all, Tezuka," Atobe continued, moving to do the same with a slightly irritated look. "When someone speaks to you, please reply. It is only polite to do so."

There was no reply from the other boy.

"Second of all," the diva now took on a long-suffering look. "You shouldn't stare so much. It's offensive, and you might be able to intimidate people with just a look alone, but that simply isn't the way to building friendship. Or companionship. Or anything else, really. I don't know how Oishi actually puts up with you because you can be so difficult-"

"Shut up and warm up, Atobe."

There was a pause while the older boy eyed the captain with a raised eyebrow. That was precisely the problem he was talking about. Tezuka had problems communicating properly with people. He had problems expressing himself without looking like either a bloody jerk or a stuck up pig. Either that, or he had issues with displaying emotions, and he had even bigger issues with attempting to behave like any other normal human. So many problems, and he was still unbothered by everything.

"I am warming up. Just not to you, though." The nonchalant answer made Tezuka frown.

The captain spoke moments later, his gaze failing to meet Atobe's. "We're playing doubles today. There is a need for cooperation-"

"And trust. Lots of trust. Did you notice that what holds the Golden Pair together is not just superb skill and coordination, but also a lot of trust?" The look on Tezuka's face told Atobe the other had been paying attention after all. "So, first of all, we need to learn to trust each other. If you can't trust me, then this probably wouldn't work out. We're going to make fools out of ourselves on the courts again and I will _not_ allow that."

This time Atobe reached over to place a hand on Tezuka's shoulder, looking totally serious.

"Tezuka, if you don't learn how to trust me, we'll get nowhere."

The captain only gave him a long, hard look, lips pursed tight. "Do you trust me, then?"

"Yes, of course. I trust you to play doubles with me. Now, trusting you to cover my back and not crash into me while running for the same serve on the court is something else entirely. I'll admit that doubles is a totally different league from singles. The both of us are so used to being on our own in the courts that we forget the occasions where we have to share it with others. In terms of skills, we have plenty of them. We're top class players in our school team, and everyone knows that. But we lack the coordination and trust. We need to work on that."

Tezuka gave his watch a quick glance, and his reply could be considered to be a wry one. "We have about twenty more minutes to work on that, then."

Atobe sighed, near exasperated. "I know it won't happen in an instant. So we can start _now_, and _continue_ building our trust while playing, hm? Sounds good?"

The look in Tezuka's eyes was enough for Atobe. He smiled, thinking they were finally getting somewhere.

* * *

Kisarazu and Yanigizawa had been specially trained by one of the best player managers in the nation to face whatever threats other teams had to offer. Mizuki, though, looked slightly nonplused to see the Atobe-Tezuka pair take the court.

"Interesting," he said. "I had wondered who was going to end up in the Doubles 2 slot for Seigaku, since they don't have any good doubles players aside from Oishi and Kikumaru..." Mizuki murmured. "I didn't realize that Seigaku would try that again," he continued, more to himself than to the doubles team that was watching him nervously.

Usually Kisarazu and Yanigizawa played Doubles 1, but for some reason Mizuki had moved them to the second slot, putting an inexperienced team in its place. They had learnt to trust his predictions, but it was unsettling that he hadn't been expecting this development.

"6-3," he said, staring hard at the Seigaku players for a long moment, noticing how Tezuka stood aloof, as though nothing could touch him, and Atobe turned to the crowd to encourage it. "You'll tear them apart," he advised, before shooing them onto the court.

Both of them radiated strength, but Kisarazu recognized what was wrong at once, and moved over to explain to Yanagizawa. "They've been sharing attention too long," he said. "And they fight for it – Tezuka quietly, and Atobe fiercely."

"What?" Yanagizawa asked, curious.

Kisarazu didn't want to speak of it, but the truth compelled him. "It's like being a twin. You're like someone, so they compare you. And you have to fight to get noticed for your own merits."

Yanagizawa knew that Kisarazu's brother Ryou was a sore point with him. But it was true – Tezuka and Atobe were rarely mentioned without the other being brought up. That probably infuriated the proud Atobe, and irritated the quieter Tezuka. Glancing over at St. Rudolph's bench, he thought that the two had a lot in common with another member of their team.

"One set match! Seigaku's Tezuka to serve!"

Fuji seemed thoughtful as he watched the match begin. Tezuka was serving well and had two aces before Kisarazu managed to return the ball to begin the volley.

"Oishi?" he said, his soft voice carrying across the distance between them.

Oishi jumped slightly, surprised to be addressed by Atobe's best friend. "Y-yes?"

"They're going to lose, aren't they?"

Oishi opened his mouth to deny it, but no words would come out. He didn't want to admit it but Atobe and Tezuka, who at least weren't fighting each other this time, still hadn't managed to actually start working together. "Let's see what happens," he said diplomatically.

Fuji sighed deeply, tucking his hands into his pockets. "That's what I thought."

The game unfolded, with each team keeping its first three games. Atobe, unused to actually dropping games, was getting frustrated, and when Mizuki called his players over, he wore a wide smile on his face.

"You should break them in this game... and they'll start fighting. Use it."

Kisarazu and Yanagizawa weren't inclined to argue – when Mizuki started to twist his hair around his fingers, it meant he was feeling particularly confident.

They broke Atobe's serve, firing the ball along the edges to keep them apart before firing the ball down the center. The strategy worked three times as the two, cautious about colliding, pulled up short.

"I thought you had it."

"I thought _you_ had it." Atobe was almost ready to start twitching. "That's why I stopped."

"No." Tezuka frowned, staring at the ball that got past them. "We have to come up with a better way to stop that."

Atobe gave the doubles staring at them a thoughtful look, then frowned. "Like? You have any ideas? Obviously, we're not going to draw a line down the middle like what Momo and Echizen did. It'll be ridiculous. Not to mention that everyone would be laughing at us for trying that."

"Unprofessional." Tezuka affirmed, glancing at Oishi, who was giving him a worried look.

"And stupid. We're not children."

They would have discussed further, but Kisarazu was already getting ready to serve again. A sudden bout of inspiration struck Atobe, and he called over his shoulder.

"I'll take the upper half of the court, you the lower! If it looks like I can't get the ball - not that it'll ever happen but we never know - you can get the ball. Trust me, remember?"

Tezuka would have replied had Kisarazu not served then, aiming for the outer court. The captain got the ball and returned it, as the both of them waited for the inevitable volley down the middle. The two boys eyed each other almost warily, and when it did happen, their attention was turned towards the ball at the same time, both boys judging rapidly where the ball would land.

"I'll-" Atobe began, but Tezuka was already moving towards the ball.

Once again, both boys came to a stop as the ball rolled down the court between them. There was a pause as Atobe stared at Tezuka, and the captain did the same in return. Yanagisawa started laughing away on the opposite court, his loud laughter grating on the ears.

"It's like watching a chicken and duck attempting to dance together da ne!"

"I don't understand," Momoshirou began from where he was standing behind the Golden Pair. "Why didn't they just...?"

Everyone knew what he was referring to. The old one line down the middle of the court tactic. This worked for him and Ryoma, and might work for Tezuka and Atobe too.

"They're trying to play doubles, stupid!" With that, Kikumaru smacked Momoshirou on the back of his head.

"Ow! Eiji-senpai!"

"But it's not enough." Fuji's calm reply and amused grin made the hyperactive player scowl.

"Okay, tell you what." Atobe began, eyeing the tennis ball as if it had fangs. "We'll do it the Golden Pair way. Read my body movements, Tezuka. You know how to do that, right?"

The younger boy only gave Atobe a look.

"So, like I said, _trust me_. And read my body movements. I'll always be in the upper court, Tezuka. Remember that."

The next time Kisarazu served, Atobe returned, and when the ball came whizzing down the centerline again, Tezuka had his eyes on the tennis ball first, judging where it would hand. His eyes then quickly moved to where Atobe stood, and the older boy looked as if he was going for the ball. Tezuka quickly changed his footsteps and stopped just a little further away from Atobe, but not far enough to be unable to return the volley.

Atobe returned the shot, and both boys turned in a spilt instance to give each other a look that said precisely how they felt.

"They got it!" Momoshirou crowed, thumping Ryoma on his back. The younger boy only scowled.

"At least they didn't trip over each other." Kikumaru's half-relieved and somewhat droll answer made Oishi shush him up almost immediately.

Fuji glanced at Inui, who was scribbling frantically in his book. "About what we thought, no?"

"Indeed," Inui admitted. "Though they're evolving, the evolution is too slow to keep pace with St. Rudolph's."

"Tezuka, don't you dare lose your serve," Atobe snapped. The 5-3 game was wearing on him. Having his serve broken had riled him, and all he could do now was count on Tezuka... damnit.

"Trust me," Tezuka returned, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Serve, serve, serve, serve...

Score tied 30-30.

"Now they'll show them up! Go Atobe-senpai!" Momoshirou cheered, and then as an afterthought, he tacked on, "Go, buchou!"

"40-30, Seigaku lead!"

Then it fell apart.

No matter how skilled they were, Tezuka and Atobe weren't able to account for what happened next. It was like getting hit by a freight bus as they were crossing the street. Yanagisawa's shots became sharper, and when Atobe moved to lob it out of his reach, Kisarazu was there, twirling as he shot a drop shot that made people applaud in appreciation.

Match Point.

"Game, St. Rudolph's, 6-3!"

The court was eerie in its stillness as Tezuka and Atobe turned to stare at each other. Breathlessly, everyone who knew anything about their rivalry waited for a reaction.

"It went better than last time," Tezuka said after a moment.

Atobe, whose temper had been on the verge of exploding, calmed down at Tezuka's relatively deadpan line. Tezuka was going to be graceful – Atobe could do no less.

"Because you listened to me," Atobe said, smirking.

The collective breath the regulars held was released.

"They're – not fighting?" Oishi said in awe.

"Doesn't seem like it, does it?" Fuji said placidly.

"It would probably work better if we actually did practice, as we said," Tezuka mused as they came off the court, not walking side by side, but not avoiding the other either.

"Nyah! They honestly can't want to play doubles again, can they?" Kikumaru yelped, horrified. Watching poor doubles games was as offensive to him as anything Atobe had ever said or done. Doubles was his specialty, and the Atobe-Tezuka pair desecrated it.

"It seems so," Oishi said, staring in awe at the relative ceasefire that seemed to be declared. He'd been hoping and praying that someday the two would get along, but now that it seemed to be starting... it was decidedly weird.

Ryuuzaki reached into her pocket and pulled out her traveling package of aspirin. She honestly hadn't expected the two to start figuring out some of the doubles tricks, and the idea that they wanted to play together again made her head hurt. When they came in front of her for evaluative comments, she just waved her hand to get rid of them. She simply couldn't deal with their insanity anymore.

It was just too _weird_ having Tezuka and Atobe getting along.

Shaking her head in a bit of disgust, she turned bright eyes to her Golden Pair. "How about you two show me what real doubles looks like, so my headache will go away?" she asked.

"We were playing doubles!" Atobe protested from the bench.

"Not by a long shot." Kikumaru's disdainful reply, followed by the upset sniff was pretty indicative of his thoughts on their game. "You barely managed to make yourselves look like idiots."

Once again, the hyperactive player appeared to have forgotten that he was referring to Tezuka and Atobe as a collective front, and not Atobe only. The warning look given to him by Tezuka shushed him up quick, and Oishi gave his best friend an apologetic look.

"Let's go warm up, Eiji."

As the mild-natured vice-captain led his partner away from the courts, Fuji turned to Atobe with a pleased smile.

"You're improving." The prodigy appeared to have forgotten his problems for the moment. "Remember what I said? You have the skill, just not the training. Therefore, that's all you need to perfect."

"Yes," Atobe nodded thoughtfully, glancing at Tezuka, who had already gone back to the bench where his bag was placed and was riffling through it for his towel. "I believe that if we have the proper training, we would have done fine on the courts as a doubles pair. In fact, since we're both such good singles players, we would make a powerful doubles team."

"The amazing discovery of the day." Fuji jested lightly, patting Atobe on his shoulder. Fuji moved away, back to his own bag to retrieve something.

Atobe rose to wander over to where Tezuka was sitting. He hated the loss more than anything else. It was the second doubles loss he suffered, and he would make sure that it would never happen again!

Originally, he grew steadily angrier by the moment with each point they lost, but when it came down to the eventual match point, and seeing how both Tezuka wasn't as upset about the issue as he ought to be. There were ways to control his temper, he knew that. He simply needed the right triggers.

"Tezuka," Atobe sat down beside the captain without any invitation, causing the other boy to give him a look. The diva let the reprimanding look slide over him easily. "I think we should start training together from tomorrow onwards. What do you think? The both of us are skilled; in terms of tennis abilities, we have more than enough. All we lack is training and some coordination. I'm sure we can overcome that."

"You're referring to private training sessions for doubles?" The monotonous question and carefully neutral voice made Atobe sigh.

"Yes, of course. What else can that be?"

* * *

The Golden Pair was getting ready to start their game. They were facing a new doubles pair this time; the team captain of St. Rudolph, Akazawa, who used to be a singles player and a former doubles player called Kaneda. Both appeared to be slightly nervous about playing against the famed Golden Pair from Seigaku, but the manager called them to the side of the court and spoke to them before releasing them back to the courts.

"Oishi-Kikumaru pair of Seishun Gakuen versus Kaneda-Akazawa pair of St. Rudolph Boys' Junior High!"

Watching Kikumaru bounce out onto the court helped relax Ryuuzaki immensely. She had resigned herself to the fact that she would probably lose Doubles 2 as soon as she let her headstrong players tell her what to do, but having the Golden Pair around made her feel much better.

The Golden Pair would show people that Seigaku doubles really were the best.

Unfortunately, it didn't quite happen that way.

End: Chapter 12


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Watching from the sidelines, Ryoma felt his eyes start to throb. He knew he shouldn't be pleased that buchou and the monkey king lost, but that meant that they would definitely have to enter the second singles match... presuming they didn't lose in straight matches.

He was starting to wonder.

Akazawa hit the ball again, and Kikumaru went after it, and though his racquet made contact, he missed the sweet spot — hell, Ryoma noticed, he missed most of it. The ball went out, and Kikumaru growled in frustration.

It was rare to see Kikumaru so serious. Usually he had fun while playing, clowning around and teasing his opponents in such a playful fashion that it was hard to take offense, but today his focus seemed off.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to follow the blurring ball, but he counted five before having to shut them.

"You okay?" a soft voice asked.

It was all he could do to not jump out of his skin. Someone had managed to surprise him and he didn't appreciate it. Turning his head slightly, he met Fuji's smiling face.

"I'm fine."

Fuji glanced over at the match, frowning a bit. "Is something wrong?"

"The tennis ball blurs, whenever the big one's hitting," Ryoma said. "It's like seeing five or six at once."

Inui, standing nearby, tapped his pen thoughtfully as he watched. "It's Akazawa. His backhand is executed using the top of the gut instead of the sweet spot..."

"Which makes the lines on the ball blur," Fuji said. "Most people wouldn't notice but for someone with extraordinary sight like Kikumaru, he'll end up chasing all of the balls." He glanced over at Ryoma a little curiously as the first year finally turned away.

"I'm going to go get a drink." Ryoma announced, marching off.

"Interesting, isn't it, that he noticed that?" Fuji mused.

Inui saw Fuji's eyes follow Ryoma, and felt a twinge of sympathy for the first year. First he had managed to attract the attention of both Tezuka and Atobe — now he seemed to have just earned himself a place on Fuji's radar.

"He's playing your brother later," Inui said. "You're not going to..." he trailed off, knowing that Fuji had a tendency to be overprotective of his younger brother.

Fuji's benign smile was hardly reassuring. "It's a game, and Ryoma is my teammate," he said. "Of course I'm going to hope he plays his best."

"But not beat your brother?"

Fuji just gave him another smile. "I'd like to be able to play today. It's weird, being Singles 1."

"You'll get to play," Inui said grimly. He turned his head, just in time to watch Kikumaru and Oishi enter a tiebreak. "The Golden Pair just lost."

"Kikumaru is amazing to make it this far," Fuji said softly in agreement. "It's too bad, really."

Kikumaru tried, and Oishi did his best, but the St. Rudolph's pair was frantic in their defense.

Game set, won by Akazawa-Kaneda pair, 7-6.

* * *

Kaidou's match was coming up next, and his opponent was a small, mousy-looking boy called Nomura. The boy appeared to be a little nervous over his match against Kaidou, and Fuji could see him shrinking visibly when the viper hissed at him in his habitual manner.

Even before the match began, Fuji could already predict the outcome.

"He's not going to last for the match," the prodigy's soft voice raised Atobe's attention. He abandoned the rather comfortable perch he had taken beside Tezuka (much to the bewilderment of the rest of the team,) and approached where Fuji was standing with a contemplative look. "Look at Kaidou's opponent."

"He looks like he's going to lose the control of his bladder anytime." Atobe's amused reply was something Fuji had been expecting. "Pathetic. And he's playing Singles 3? I wonder why."

As it turned out, the boy did have some tricks up his sleeves, and he did know a number of Kaidou's weak spots, an uncanny foresight that the whole team appeared to be equipped with today. But Nomura didn't have the skill to pull off what was needed to really make Kaidou lose the match, and he was being used to wipe the courts by the time Kaidou was through all his tricks.

Atobe and Fuji had both noticed the pattern the other team had. Whenever there were breaks and prior to matches, the smirking boy sitting on the coach's bench would speak to the team members with careful looks directed at their opponents. It felt as if he was carefully orchestrating his team members, and whenever he stopped twirling his hair, it usually meant that something was wrong with the team member playing on the courts.

"I think it's him." Atobe frowned, staring hard at St. Rudolph's manager. "The manager. The one who keeps twirling his hair in a girly manner."

Fuji agreed. "He appears to be the brain behind the team."

"Mizuki Hajime, third year student in St. Rudolph." Inui offered helpfully, flipping through his data book. "The team has no coach and they are managed by him alone. He appears to practice the use of data tennis as well, and he has a tendency to make use of the other teams playing against St. Rudolph's rival schools to test the accuracy of his predictions and data. It is said that his predicted score for matches have never gone wrong."

"You spoke to him, then?" Atobe's gave Inui a look.

"Ahh, I met him briefly outside the courts just now. He was giving information away to Akiyama Third Junior High."

The diva sighed, and almost rolled his eyes. "I knew it. The bastard. No wonder everyone suddenly appeared to be smarter today."

"He predicted a loss for Singles 3, then?" Fuji turned to regard Inui with a faint, curious look.

"6-2. That's all Nomura was going to get out of Kaidou." As Inui spoke, Fuji glanced to the scoreboard. "He is aware of his own team's strengths and weaknesses."

"Game and set, Kaidou Kaoru! 6 set to 2!"

"He's smart," Atobe began, staring hard at the other boy. "But you should know the limitations of data tennis, don't you Inui?"

"Ahh."

"Where is Echizen?" Fuji glanced around their resting area, noting that the younger boy was nowhere in sight.

"Probably warming up," Atobe answered, shrugging off his friend's concern. "Someone should let him know the match is about to start, though."

Fuji rose to his feet, smiling. "I'll go. Sumire-chan, I'm going to go get Echizen," he called as he started away.

"Don't call me Sumire-chan!" was the reply, but Fuji had already left.

Fuji told Atobe that he wanted his team to win, but he felt decidedly more divided now that the moment was upon him. He hated to see Yuuta suffer, and he knew that Ryoma was in the mood to cause a ruckus. One of them was going to go down quite badly, and Fuji was going to be the one caught in the middle.

He didn't want to lose, damn it. But if they won, his brother would get hurt.

He had hurt his brother too often before, Fuji knew. Often in trying to protect him, he had caused more damage. People only saw the light that shone from the first born son, the entrancing shine of the moon and stars, not realizing the second born was just as special, with the passion and fire of a small sun that made the moon live. But people loved the unknown, and that was what Fuji was.

It was unfair, Yuuta had accused him more than once, and Fuji was forced to agree. However Yuuta didn't seem to understand that the world was inherently unfair. Fuji would have done almost anything to change that, but he couldn't. The world didn't work like that.

A familiar face wearing St. Rudolph's jersey was moving towards him, and he paused. His brother froze as well, and for the first time since Yuuta left months ago, they were alone.

"You look great, Yuuta. Are you used to dorm life yet?" he asked, trying to find somewhere to begin.

Yuuta didn't answer, so Fuji pressed on. "I thought you might end up playing against me, and I was looking forward to the match, but I got bumped to Singles ones. It's too bad," he said, even though he didn't feel it. Let Yuuta play Echizen, and decide it through tennis, instead of feelings.

"Don't lie to me!" Yuuta growled, clenching his fist. He snapped about Ryoma, before declaring he was going to crush the first year student. "I'll win the game for St. Rudolph," he promised icily, brushing past his brother.

"Yuuta, our rookie won't be that easy to beat," Fuji said, trying to warn his brother to salve his conscience somewhat.

"I won't know until I try," Yuuta called back, then disappeared to the court.

Fuji knew he still need to retrieve Echizen, but his eyes wandered over to where Yuuta had been practicing.

The ball was lodged between metal, high, high above.

He knew, instantly, using the skill that elevated him to the level of prodigy, exactly what had happened. And he had a good idea who must have taught his brother that move.

"Mizuki," he growled.

The sound of a steady "thud, thud, thud" broke his concentration. He forced himself to relax as Seigaku's first year started to wander by, bouncing a ball on the rim of his racquet carelessly.

"Echizen," Fuji began, turning to regard the younger boy. "Your match should be starting soon."

The boy only turned to glance at him briefly, his footsteps coming to a stop. "I know."

"Don't underestimate your opponent."

"He's your younger brother, isn't he?" The nonchalant question made Fuji tense. "Is he as good as you?"

Fuji knew losing his cool would do nothing for his reputation, and Ryoma probably didn't know the implications behind what he was asking. There were so many hidden meanings and double sides to the questions and situations Ryoma unwittingly threw him into, it made Fuji unsettled inside. He could answer him honestly, or he could brush the issue off like it didn't matter.

"He might be as good as me."

The younger boy 'humph'ed and started walking back to the courts again, bouncing his tennis ball. Fuji watched him for a moment longer, eyes opened and something unfamiliar struggled within the bright blue irises.

"I'm not going to lose the match," Ryoma began, his voice sounding loud and clear. "So expect no mercy from me just because he's your younger brother, Fuji-senpai."

"I know," the faint smile barely made its way to his face. "Show him no mercy, then."

"I'm going to make him cry."

* * *

The Echizen-Fuji match began after a flurry of conversations started up on the courts, as the spectators wondered about the outcome. Many of them had hoped for a Fuji-Fuji match, but they weren't disappointed when they heard that Echizen was a left-handed player. Everyone wanted to see how Yuuta played against left-handed players.

The two players shook hands and Ryoma regarded the older boy with a nonplussed look. "Ne, you're Fuji-senpai's younger brother, right?"

Yuuta's face tightened in anger.

"I wonder who's stronger. This is going to be fun." The slight sneer in Ryoma's voice made Atobe give him a sharp look.

The match started off with Yuuta serving and keeping his service match. When it came to Ryoma's turn, it appeared that his twist serve wouldn't work on the younger Fuji. He found a way around that, and the spectators were all holding their breaths throughout the game, all the way until something Fuji had been waiting to see appeared.

The twist spin shot.

The moment Yuuta made that shot, a few of the wiser players caught their breaths. Mizuki smirked, pleased that Yuuta was showcasing what he taught him, and proud that the younger boy had finally decided to show the others what made him a 'left-handed killer'. The manager had coached all his teammates and designed to train them using specific techniques meant for making them stronger than before.

That was how St. Rudolph managed to climb as high as where they were at now.

Everyone once again held their breaths and watched Ryoma counter the new shot after adjusting his racket angle while losing a few points. Atobe snorted, amused by the younger boy's ability to adapt and move with the flow. He could see greatness untapped in the younger boy. Now, if he had the correct guidance...

Ryoma regard his racket for a moment before turning to stare at Yuuta. "Ne, you really shouldn't do that twist-something so much."

It was a subtle silence, one which only a few people on the court observed. Tezuka, Atobe, Mizuki, Fuji and Ryuuzaki – all of them waited with hushed breaths to see what the other boy would do. They were the ones who realized exactly the same thing Ryoma had – that the shot Yuuta was using would eventually destroy his shoulder.

Predictably enough, Yuuta snapped back at Ryoma, completely oblivious to the tension from the sidelines, but Atobe's eyes were drawn to Mizuki. The manager looked stunned and a bit afraid.

"He knows," Atobe told Fuji.

Fuji wasn't wearing a smile. "I know," he said, and clear blue eyes regarded Mizuki like a cat eyeing a mouse it wasn't sure which way to pounce on.

Atobe almost felt sorry for him.

At the bench, people were starting to make comments about whether placing Echizen in singles 2 had been such a good idea.

"He should have been in 3, and Kaidou in two," Arai was muttering. "Why did we put a left-handed player up against the left-handed killer?"

"Shut up, Arai!" Momoshiro snapped. "You can't beat Echizen, so have a bit of faith. He'll win!"

"He's three games down," Arai said resentfully.

"Just watch, Arai," Atobe advised. "You're about to see why Echizen is a regular," he said.

"Atobe-senpai?"

Atobe pointed to his eyes, staring at the match with a wide grin on his face. "This is the brat's first official singles match. He's not about to go down without a fight – and I know he's about to show us something interesting. I can see it."

"Insight!" a few of Atobe's devout followers murmured, almost in awe.

Inui, on hearing the word that described one of Atobe's most-vaunted abilities, prepared his pen, waiting to see what the first year would pull.

Meanwhile, on the court, Yuuta fired off another twist spin shot. To everyone's amazement, Ryoma ran head-long for it - and suddenly slid under the ball before managing to return it with a strange shot that arced twice on the court.

"What was that?" someone whispered.

"Drive B," Ryoma's voice proclaimed calmly.

Atobe started to laugh. "He's impertinent, I'll give him that."

The others started to gather around as Inoue, the reporter, gave his explanation of what Ryoma had done and how remarkable a shot it was. Atobe tuned him out, leaning forward a bit to listen to what Ryoma was saying instead.

"Your older brother isn't the only strong player here," Ryoma said to Yuuta, before turning to walk back to his place. "Your goal might be to beat him, but I'm aiming much higher!" The slender finger he pointed into the air made his statement, and Atobe smiled at Fuji.

"You were just insulted."

Fuji didn't seem to be paying attention, and didn't reply. His eyes were fastened on his brother's face, and he seemed to come to a decision. Then they moved over to the player-manager Mizuki, and Atobe suddenly realized that Fuji was in one of those rare moods of his where he felt like totally obliterating a person off the face of the earth.

It would be fun to watch, Atobe knew, but he still couldn't stop himself from inching away slightly from Fuji, who seemed to be simmering quietly. Atobe wasn't afraid of anything, but he wasn't stupid either. He did have good self-preservation instincts.

The match progressed with the Seigaku supporters crowing in joy when Ryoma appeared to turn the tables and Yuuta started to see where the direction of the match was heading.

"They look like they're having fun." Atobe's careful comment made Fuji regard him with a soft smile. It was the first genuine smile he had seen Fuji sport for the whole of that day.

"Ahh, yes." The prodigy turned back to the game, his face taking on a subtle shade of gentleness when he looked at Yuuta. "He's playing someone at his level now. And Yuuta will only get better if he can get past Ryoma."

"He's going to be much stronger when he faces you again, Syuusuke." Atobe's confident smile made the other boy chuckle.

"Of course. He's my younger brother."

Atobe turned back to the game, glad that the dark mood surrounding his best friend for most of the day had finally cleared. It wouldn't excuse Mizuki from being thrashed on the courts by Fuji, but at least the prodigy wouldn't be grumpy and snappy that evening.

"This Echizen..." Fuji began moments later, staring at Ryoma. "I feel like playing against him."

The diva stared at the younger boy moving rapidly on the courts, then smirked. "You'll be surprised."

"Hm?"

"He's a smarter kid now than when I last played against him, Syuusuke."

Fuji laughed, soft. "Wouldn't that make him more interesting than when you last played against him then, Keigo-chan?"

Inui eyed the two third year students standing beside him slightly nervously. He would fear for Ryoma, except that the younger boy also had no sense of self-preservation when it came to Atobe and Fuji. If he mentioned the issue to Ryoma, instead of waiting for Fuji to toss out the challenge when he felt the time was right, Ryoma would pin the other boy down and force him to have a match. He had an intense urge to play against everyone who was good, and that alone was slightly headache-inducing in its own way.

"Game set and match, Echizen Ryoma! 6-4!"

A roaring response went up around the courts, and Ryoma slowly walked towards the net after picking up his cap, which had fallen off during the last Drive B he performed. He clasped hands with Yuuta at the net, and Fuji smiled when he saw that Yuuta appeared to be glad instead of angry at the loss.

"I lost," the older boy began with a smile. "You're really strong."

Ryoma shrugged, then spoke with an almost condescending tone. "Maybe you're just weak."

"You-!"

"I'm just kidding." The younger boy smirked at Yuuta in return, then started to leave the court.

The younger Fuji stared after Ryoma with a half-angry, half-amazed look. He then broke into a brilliant smile.

"Looks like you've acquired another monster for a kouhai, aniki."

Ryuuzaki, meanwhile, was studying the scoreboard. After the Golden Pair had – against all of her expectations – lost, she had known this was the likely outcome, because she had faith in her singles players. Now, though, she felt a twist of apprehension as she glanced over at Fuji.

Fuji had taken off his warm ups and was stretching slowly, but to her experienced eye, there seemed to be something slightly off about his motions. He was moving a little more jerkily, as though anger, barely restrained, was simmering underneath his skin.

Oh, he fooled almost everyone, but she hadn't coached for thirty years without learning some things. Fuji was on the verge of rage, and she had no clue on how to calm him down and make him focus. Fuji was one of the more unique players who had ever passed through her care, and she always felt like she was riding a tiger when dealing with him – only in control because he let her.

She should never have let Atobe and Tezuka convince her to put them in Doubles 2. She should have gone with her original plan, and tried Fuji there with Momoshiro, then put Ryoma in Singles three, but she wasn't able to deny them the chance to work together. They had improved, throughout the game, but still lost eventually. It left her without her usual singles line up, and she was feeling strangely insecure.

She didn't know if she trusted Fuji as singles one. He didn't play for the team – he always had an agenda of his own, which sometimes didn't match anything most people would think of as logical.

Checking her pockets, she realised she was out of aspirin. Damn it, she thought she had packed enough. Or had she been accidentally overdosing again? she wondered.

Tezuka glanced over at Fuji, his brow furrowed. "Good luck, Fuji," he called, breaking the silence around him.

Atobe blinked a bit, wondering why Tezuka was crossing the unseen lines before recognizing that Tezuka's sense of responsibility had come into play. Seigaku rarely went into first singles after playing the first game of a round.

"Show us how a singles one player performs," Atobe challenged.

"I'll win," Fuji promised, pulling the racket from his bag.

Atobe didn't trust that reply at all. "Syuusuke, no playing with your food," he warned. "Sometimes the mouse gets lucky and manages to escape." Fuji just smiled, but the blue of his eyes stood out in warning to Atobe, who merely tossed his hands up. "Fine. It's on your head."

"Isn't it always?"

As Fuji walked onto the court, a murmur arose, announcing him. Inui, though, was looking at Atobe. "What's wrong?"

"Syuusuke's mad," Atobe said. "Bad things happen when Syuusuke is mad. He makes my temper look mild."

Kawamura nodded in agreement despite himself. "I can never tell when he is mad, but you can sure tell after."

Inui started to scribble the data down, and Atobe smiled. "Can you make photocopies of that? It might make a good public service announcement."

At the net, Mizuki Hajime was waiting with a smirk on his face.

The manager from St. Rudolph extended a hand graciously in anticipation for a handshake, but was shocked into stillness when Fuji withdrew his hand in a manner that suggested he was having second thoughts about touching Mizuki. The prodigy opened his eyes to stare at Mizuki, the blueness sharp and disturbingly cold.

"He's in for it." Atobe announced with a sigh. "I hope Syuusuke won't mess up the courts too badly. Blood is difficult to get out of synthetic courts, you know."

Next to him, Kawamura paled. Inui's pen had scratched to a stop, and the data tennis player appeared to think about adding that onto his notebook. Tezuka only shot the nonplussed looking player a sharp look.

"Let's have a good game." Mizuki's voice, which was slick and nasal, made Atobe roll his eyes, unable to resist the urge.

"This," the diva gestured vaguely towards Mizuki. "Is what you'll call 'an idiot asking for death'."

* * *

It was like looking at the remnants of a car accident. Unbearably ugly and yet one couldn't resist staring. Fuji was what one could call the epitome of vindication. He was a master at toying with his opponents. Therefore, if he was feeling kind, you might get away after feeling as if you had lost a limb or two. If he was feeling bored, you might want to reconsider meeting him on the courts again. And if he was angry, well, Atobe would usually tell those people to run when they had the chance to. There wouldn't be much of them left to go around by the time Fuji was done with those opponents he disliked strongly.

Watching the Fuji-Mizuki match was an exact example. He hoped that Inui had taken careful notes on the match, and would distribute it among the club. It would save him so much pain when the occasion rose and he had to explain to Ryuuzaki why their kouhai were smeared all over the courts.

The more ferocious an animal was, the more humans would be tempted to poke at it. That was mistake number one.

Fuji liked making those opponents he disliked think they had the upper hand, and that was exactly what happened to Mizuki. He gave him five games, and Ryuuzaki watched with progressive twitchiness as Fuji lost game after game while sporting a confused expression, like how he never expected Mizuki to predict his moves and know his weak spots.

The grin on Mizuki's face only got wider and wider, to the point where Atobe felt like wiping it off with his foot as well. Nobody should be allowed to smirk like that.

After Mizuki won the fifth game, and when everyone looked as if the world had just dropped out of the sky, since the prodigy Fuji Syuusuke was _losing_ his match-- Fuji stopped Mizuki just as they walked past each other and while they were within the earshot of Yuuta.

"Mizuki." Both boys came to a stop. "I'm going to ask you this, just in case. Did you teach Yuuta the Twist Spin Shot even though you knew about the damage it would do to his body?"

Yuuta's eyes widened, and Mizuki appeared to go deathly still.

"Winning's the most important thing. To me, there are always casualties to victory."

That was when the wind changed.

Mistake number two, Atobe thought as he gazed at Mizuki with a pitying look. Never provoke Fuji using Yuuta. Not if one still wanted to live to see tomorrow. "Someone's going to get crunched," Atobe stated simply.

The next seven games flew by, and Atobe smirked as Fuji casually ground Mizuki into a whimpering wreck. He couldn't stop himself from laughing as Mizuki crumpled to his knees and started to yell at the end of the match about how Fuji had deliberately deceived him. Of course Fuji had, Atobe wanted to tell him. Mizuki had obviously missed the first lesson in dealing with Fuji while collecting his data: appearances were deceiving.

"Thank you for looking after my brother," Fuji told what remains of St. Rudolph's manager coldly.

Atobe had to admit that Fuji had style.

End: Chapter 13


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Echizen Ryoma didn't like a lot of things, but his team was driving him nuts. He was sick of the Inui juice, disgusted by the diet, annoyed at his senpai who seemed, in his not-so-humble opinion, to need mental help, and bothered by the fact that he'd already been crushed - twice - by the team's resident stars. Most of all, he was sick of being treated like a kid who had no clue how to play tennis.

He'd already won four titles in America, and he was good enough to keep up with almost anyone he had ever met. The Tezuka and Atobe problems would be remedied, as soon as he figured out how to beat them - and he would. He'd never lost before... well, except to the old man, but that didn't count.

His main problem, though, was not being able to play. He'd thought after showing everyone his skills at a tournament, the matter would be resolved, but Ryuuzaki had made it clear that he still had a long way to go before she would consider bumping one of her star trio for him. She had suggested quite strongly that he might want to seriously consider learning how to play doubles, at least for this year.

The idea was repulsive.

Ryoma had thought about the situation, and came to an obvious conclusion. As far as he could see, the one thing standing between him and regular playing time was Fuji Syuusuke.

He had watched Fuji play all his matches, and while he admitted that the older player was skilled, he hadn't seen anything particularly special about him aside from the Tsubame Gaeshi. And that could be countered, he was quite sure -- just by getting to the ball before it bounced. Using the split step, it should be possible. Fuji was good, but nowhere near Atobe or Tezuka's level. He was good enough for most teams' first slot, which was why he was so dangerous when placed in the third.

Ryoma was sure he could beat him, if given the chance. But regulars rarely held practice matches, so it didn't seem likely to be happening anytime soon.

He had been in a foul mood that weekend, and it had been made even more foul when his father tricked him into wasting his day off "coaching" two girls. The girls were nice enough, he supposed, but utterly clueless in tennis, and he could have spent the time practicing himself.

Needless to say, he did find a way to get some tennis time in. The girls had managed to get into a scrape with a tennis club, and he had challenged them all to a contest.

Which he had won, of course. It had been reassuring to know he still had it - especially after seeing the looks on their faces as the "chibi" left with their entire collection of balls.

It was nice to feel reassured again, to see people stare at him in amazement because they underestimated someone who was younger and smaller. He wanted to prove to them that he could do it, too. He might not be at Tezuka and Atobe's level at the moment, but he was sure the place wasn't far now. But first of all, he had to get himself a permanent slot in singles.

After that, he'd wipe the courts with the two older boys' assess.

* * *

Ryoma got a surprise visit the next day.

Someone called Akutsu Jin from Yamabuki Chuu turned up in Seigaku asking for Ryoma. He didn't only beat up Arai and bully Katou, but also served stones at him. It was the first time he had been shocked into silence and stillness, and it was also the first time fear froze him to the spot he was standing at as he watched the stones heading for his face at an uncanny speed.

There was nothing but pure malice in that act.

"Who did this to you?" The exasperated tone Ryuuzaki used when dealing with the youngest member of her regulars had the boy sulking, almost. "This is pretty severe. I can't believe you lied and said you fell down."

"I fell."

Ryuuzaki sighed. "What's wrong with you?"

Practice that day had several people fussing over him, and a lot more others who made comments he didn't want to hear.

"Echizen got attacked by someone from another school?"

"He's in the nurse's office getting treated now." Kikumaru's worried tone was just a hair's breadth away from making him irritated and generally crabby. In fact, he was already crabby. And when Ryoma saw Oishi giving him a similar worried look, he turned away in disgust and started digging through his bag for something.

Atobe stared at Ryoma for a moment before turning to Fuji. "Look."

The prodigy opened his eyes to watch the younger boy for a moment. "He's angry."

"Injured pride. He doesn't want us to think of him as a kid, but he _is_ a kid." The thoughtful look on Atobe's face made Fuji glance over. The younger boy tilted his head to one side in curiosity. "I heard that someone came to school looking for him today. Amazing, isn't it? I never knew he had a reputation outside. I wonder what the hell he did to earn retribution of that kind."

"Akutsu..." Kawamura's worried tone caught both boys' attention at once.

"You know him?" Atobe's easy tone made the frown on Kawamura's brow deepen.

"Ahh, yes."

Fuji glanced at Ryoma again. "He's pretty violent, to do all that. I wonder if Sumire-chan will inform the board about this issue. We'll be playing Yamabuki Chuu in the finals, so we'll probably see him then."

"Hm..." the contemplative look Atobe gave Ryoma was something which many worried over. "It's all up to boy wonder now, actually. I think he'll survive. He's a tough nut to crack."

"I'm sure he will," Fuji grinned, causing Kawamura to look more upset than ever. "I've yet to play against him."

"Hey, Echizen," Oishi began, approaching the younger boy. "I'm sure if you complain to the board..."

"I fell."

Momoshiro caught up with the older boy, laughing. "It's no use, Oishi-senpai." He grabbed hold of Ryoma's head and turned it forcefully, grinning. "He's got that 'I'll take care of myself' face on."

Ryoma scowled at both senpai, looking particularly vindictive. Oishi buried his face in one of his hands. "Please don't cause any trouble."

"Hm... so that's what you see in him?" Atobe nudged Fuji lightly, mirth filling his eyes.

"How can you doubt me, Keigo-chan?" Fuji jested in return, reaching over to wrap secure arms around Atobe. "I want only you."

All across the room, everyone gave the two boys either nervous or droll looks.

Fuji seemed to have calmed down enough to joke around, Atobe noticed with relief. He wrapped his arms around the other boy's waist, smiling as everyone tried not to look at them. "See that it stays that way," he said in a low voice, but one that managed to carry.

"You think I'd cheat on you?"

"Not if you know what's good for you," Atobe purred. "You're not the only one prone to fits of jealousy here."

A few of the club members started to inch towards the door, trying to get away from the vibes the two were giving off. Momoshiro and Kaidou, in rare agreement, were almost to the door before it swung open obligingly to admit another player.

The atmosphere was a bad one, and that was when Tezuka walked in, ready to prepare to go home. He saw Fuji and Atobe, Echizen's face, and everyone else ready to get the hell out of there, and he sighed. It was that kind of day.

"Atobe, if you have a moment, I would like to speak to you," he said, ignoring the diva's intimate position.

Atobe thought for a second, then realized it had to be in regards to their doubles work. "Sure," he agreed readily enough. "Now?"

"Now."

He sighed as he dropped his arms and stepped out of Fuji's half-embrace. "Looks like we'll have to continue this later."

Fuji smiled at him. "Well, I was going to come over tonight to do homework..."

Oishi, who had been unable to find the nerve to stop them, glanced over at Kikumaru, noticing the redhead seemed to be twitching particularly hard. "They're just playing with us," Oishi told his partner, though he wasn't sure if he was telling the truth.

"They make it sound so dirty! I mean, I come over to your house to do homework. Do people think we're doing that?"

"No, no..." Oishi rushed to assure him, missing the smirks from half the team.

Kikumaru threw his arms around Oishi happily. "You're so nice!"

"You are, too," Oishi assured him, running his hands over Eiji's hair. "Do you want to go get some ice cream?"

"Really? Are you paying?" Kikumaru asked.

"Sure." Oishi's face was relatively content as he helped Eiji pack up the rest of his things.

Fuji tilted his head, then looked at Atobe. "It's kind of sad, but I think they win without even trying."

Atobe was smirking again. "I wonder what happens when they realize that they are dating?"

"I want to see," Fuji agreed. He glanced over at Kawamura, who was wearing a troubled expression on his face. "Are you okay, Taka-san?"

"I'm just... thinking. I have someone I want to meet," Kawamura said softly. "I haven't seen her in a while, and I'm not sure what I should do."

"Her?" Fuji and Atobe echoed curiously.

"Akutsu's mother. I think she might be able to keep Akutsu from going after Echizen again. He really loves her... he's just a bit wild."

"You know him?"

"We used to do karate together, before I got interested in tennis. He's not a bad guy, really..." Kawamura hedged.

Fuji gave a smile. "If you say so, Taka-san, I'm sure he's worth knowing. Do you want me to go with you?"

Kawamura thought on it. "I'd better talk to her alone."

"I'll walk you there," Fuji offered. "Atobe's going to be talking to Tezuka, so I don't want to be sitting around waiting for him."

Atobe nodded, deciding. "Taka-san, you should. What if Akutsu shows up?"

"He-he won't hurt anyone... well, he's never hurt me..."

Atobe shook his head, catching Tezuka's look from across the club room. "I hope that all goes well, then." The diva offered his friend a smile. "I'll speak to you tomorrow?"

"Ah-sure." Kawamura blushed, grinning a little foolishly.

"Atobe." Tezuka's low voice was a familiar sound in the club room.

"I'm coming! Just give me a second here." Atobe turned back the two boys watching him, then rolled his eyes. "I don't know why he always has to act like his pants are on fire, but I guess it's alright." Fuji chuckled, and Kawamura only managed to turn redder than before. Atobe smiled fondly at his friends before turning to Tezuka, raising one eyebrow in question. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"We'll talk outside."

The two boys left the almost empty club room, and Atobe was amused to find themselves at the very spot they quarreled at a few days before. Tezuka probably didn't plan to come back to this place on purpose, but Atobe couldn't help wondering if the other boy was trying to hint on something.

"We'll need to practice. Especially if we want to win our next doubles match." The bespectacled boy's confident posture made Atobe amused for some reason he couldn't decipher.

"Of course we have to." The causal tone from Atobe made Tezuka stare. "We're talented at tennis, but we aren't trained for doubles at all. I'm sure that we'll get better with practice. I don't plan to lose anymore doubles matches, Tezuka."

"Neither do I."

Atobe smirked, amused. "I'm glad to see that you agree, Tezuka."

* * *

By the time Fuji and Kawamura arrived at the ice-cream shop, Momoshiro and Ryoma were squashed in the same booth with Kikumaru and Oishi. Neither member of the Golden Pair appeared to mind the presence of Momoshiro, who was obviously on the opposite team when it came to fights which split the club down the middle.

Kawamura was distracted, and he gave Fuji a feeble smile when the latter asked if he was alright. The prodigy then wandered towards the table where his other teammates were seating at, sporting a cheerful look on his face.

"May I join?"

Momoshiro almost crowed. "Fuji-senpai! Sure! Scoot over, Echizen!"

Ryoma gave his loudmouthed senpai a dark look and refused to budge from where he was seated. Fuji smiled, amused by the younger boy's antics. Kikumaru watched him carefully, his eyes sharp like a hawk's while Oishi appeared to look troubled by the presence of someone he wasn't expecting.

"Would you rather have me climb over you, then?" The light, jesting tone Fuji used had Ryoma snorting.

Eventually, the younger boy got out of his seat to allow Fuji a space between Momoshiro and himself. He turned to eye Kawamura, who was now speaking to a pretty young woman he had never seen before. Ryoma glanced at Fuji from the corner of his eyes before stating loudly.

"Isn't that Kawamura-senpai?"

That caught everyone's attention.

Fuji was amused at how quickly Kikumaru started babbling. "He's with a woman! An older woman!" Kikumaru said, leaning over Oishi to get a better look. "She's pretty!"

"Do you think it's Kawamura-senpai's girlfriend?" Momoshiro asked, his eyes huge.

Oishi blushed heavily at the suggestion. "No, he wouldn't do anything like that!" the vice captain insisted. He didn't spend that much time with Kawamura, but he was convinced that the boy had a pretty good set of morals - when not listening to what Fuji and Atobe were up to. They were a rather bad influence. He glanced over at Fuji, who was toying with a straw as he watched the unfolding scene with a smile on his face. "Right, Fuji?" he asked.

"Saa," Fuji replied, and Oishi felt a shiver go up his spine. That was Fuji's universal reply, and it usually meant trouble.

Kikumaru gasped as the woman started to cry. "How mean - making a woman cry! Bad Kawamura!" he said, and he started to get to his feet, obviously intending to intervene.

Oishi yanked his partner down before he could get anywhere, though. "It's not our business!" he said urgently.

Kikumaru pouted, but sat down sulkily. "He's really not being nice," he said. "It reflects badly on the team."

"Taka-san is always nice," Fuji cut in, staring at Kikumaru. "Except when he has a racket in his hand."

"You say nice and mean a different thing than I do." Kikumaru's eyes met Fuji's unblinkingly.

The other four stared at the two classmates, wondering what was going on.

* * *

Kikumaru Eiji and Fuji Syuusuke became friends in their first year, naturally enough, since both were in the same class and on the tennis team. They would hang out together occasionally when they weren't occupied by other people, and Fuji's rather laid back personality fit in nicely with Kikumaru's effervescent.

There were unspoken lines they didn't cross, though. When practicing, Fuji was almost always by Atobe's side, and Kikumaru had gravitated toward Oishi after being paired with him to form a doubles team, and thus was around Tezuka quite a bit.

It was okay like that. Neither Tezuka nor Atobe made any demands about who people could hang out with.

Kikumaru amused Fuji. He liked watching the red head's natural reactions, and liked seeing how open his face was. While he spent more time with Kawamura and Atobe, Fuji still appreciated being around the other boy. You could never have too many friends, was Fuji's opinion.

"Ne, Fuji!" Kikumaru said one day, going up to him at lunch. "Are you ready to try out for the team today?" he asked. "Our first ranking tournament!"

Fuji tried to keep from being excited. He, Tezuka and their captain had all been placed in the same block, which meant one of them was going to lose. Fuji knew he could probably beat the captain, if he tried, but Tezuka was a different story altogether.

"I think so. It should be fun," he said, frowning a bit as Kikumaru leaned over and swiped some egg from his bento box.

"Eiji!"

"Too slow!" Kikumaru laughed.

Their friendship was easy in that manner, open and carefree. They weren't restricted by their friends, and they weren't tied down by the two different groups they were committed to. Kikumaru was a strongly individualistic person, like Fuji, and they found comfort in each other's company.

Because when they were together, they could afford to not think about the kind of problems their friends were liable to start.

The ranking matches that day were something both boys had been looking forward to. Although the notion of joining the school team wasn't top on Fuji's list of priority issues, not being a regular member would cut him out on a lot of fun in the future. Especially when he knew that Atobe was definitely going to make it onto the school team.

"I wonder who will be the new captain, though." Kikumaru's off-hand remark caught Fuji's attention.

The younger boy grinned, giving the other a knowing look. "Somebody good, I'm sure."

"Who do you think would make it to the captain's slot this year, then?"

Fuji tilted his head to one side and made a soft 'hm'. The determined look on Kikumaru's face demanded honest answers.

"Keigo-chan will make a good captain, actually."

The other boy's eyes widened in shock. "Atobe? Captain? You can't be serious! He would be too busy thinking about himself to think about his teammates!"

At this, Fuji frowned slightly. They were treading on dangerous grounds here and both had to be careful. They never spoke about their close friends often, simply because it would sour relationships when there wasn't such a need. It was a fact that Fuji chose Atobe right from the beginning. Kikumaru, on the other hand, had chosen Tezuka.

They always left the issue as that. It was easier that way. There was an unspoken agreement between them, a deal that they wouldn't speak of the other's choice in friends when they were together. Fuji didn't think he had said anything wrong, though. Kikumaru asked him for his honest opinion, and he had given it.

"Who do you think would make a good captain, then?" Fuji's carefully neutral voice and the slight smile on his face should have told all the warning signs which were needed.

Apparently, Kikumaru never caught on the signal, or ignored it. "Tezuka would make a good captain since he's steadfast and firm with his decisions. He would also do a good job at leading the club."

"But he's not charismatic," Fuji's calm reply caused Kikumaru to narrow his eyes at him and frown. "And charisma is important when you're a leader, because people must be willing to follow you."

"People are willing to follow him!"

"It's not the same as what I'm referring to. Now, Keigo-chan-"

Kikumaru snapped. "Atobe isn't always the best, Fuji! You're not blind, so you should be able to see his antics as well! He's vain and proud. So what if he has charisma? It's simply not the same as Tezuka, who leads by example! Don't you think Atobe will be a bad example for the club when compared to Tezuka?"

Dangerous ground, indeed. "Atobe is different from Tezuka," Fuji said. "He'll shine in the spotlight, make others realize exactly how special the tennis club is. Tezuka is not that type."

"Are you calling Tezuka dull?"

Fuji smiled. "I didn't say that, but it's strange why you would think like that. I wouldn't say Tezuka is exciting, would you?"

Kikumaru glared for a moment, opening and shutting his mouth. "I... he's a good friend!"

"And Atobe is mine. Please stop insulting him," Fuji replied.

Kikumaru muttered something noncommittal under his breath, before wandering away to join Oishi. Fuji watched him go, knowing that the days of their friendship were limited.

The matches continued, and Fuji was eliminated by Tezuka and the boy whom he knew Ryuuzaki had her eye on to be captain next year... Shinoda Yoshi.

That still left the vice captain's slot open. Atobe wanted it. "I'm going to be vice captain this year," he told Fuji, his eyes glittering.

Fuji smiled, but had his doubts. Half the team would be like Kikumaru, and prefer Tezuka's quiet leadership to Atobe's flamboyance.

Privately, he believed each had their strong points. Maybe it was his friendship with Atobe that blinded him, but the glitter around the other boy was irresistible.

Meanwhile, he and Kikumaru had been treating each other stiffly, careful of their words. He knew it was a strain on Eiji, who always said what he thought, to keep his opinion about Atobe quiet, but Fuji was equally hard-pressed to avoid any sly barbs at Tezuka.

Don't make me choose, Fuji thought, but knew he had made his choice long ago.

Tezuka and Atobe had both made the team, and Fuji watched them walk around in their new regulars jerseys with something approaching envy. He should have been able to make the team, if only his block hadn't been the most difficult one to surpass.

Next time, he thought. I'll join Atobe next time.

Upon getting his jersey, Atobe became more outrageous; the status symbol of exactly how good he was worn on his back. He wasn't a bully - not quite - but he did make things difficult for those he considered beneath him.

"They need to get stronger," he told Fuji after one of their fellow first years took off in tears.

Looking at the blue and white jersey, a bit too big on Atobe's small frame, made Fuji realize he had to get stronger as well. He didn't want to be left behind.

Kikumaru, though, saw Atobe's newly acquired jersey as an affront, and was constantly referring to Tezuka in his conversations, exclaiming over how strong the first year was.

It came to a head the day the third years left permanently. Their captain, Yamato, made a speech to the first years about how he was looking to the team to be strong, and Tezuka and Atobe were carefully standing as far apart as possible.

"I hope that you remember what you've learned this year," Yamato said, his eyes falling on Tezuka and Atobe particularly.

Atobe rolled his eyes.

That did it. Kikumaru, with his astounding vision, saw it. "You're being rude!" he accused.

"I don't need repeated reminders," Atobe said. "Unlike some people, I learn things on the first try." And then his eyes settled on Tezuka, whose jaw tightened minutely.

If Kikumaru hadn't been standing by Fuji, maybe it wouldn't have happened. But the redhead grabbed Fuji, as his nearest friend, looking for support. "He's being nasty again! Fuji, tell him to stop it!"

Fuji glanced between Atobe and Kikumaru, and made his decision. "I don't think he is. I think he's right," Fuji said.

Yamato opened his mouth to try to calm them down, but it was too late.

"Fuji! What're you saying?" The distraught look on Kikumaru's face was ignored by Fuji. "I always thought that you-"

"I am Keigo-chan's best friend." Fuji spoke softly and slowly, his expression sombre. "And I don't like it when others insult my best friend."

Very slowly, with a look of dawning disappointment, Kikumaru let go of Fuji's arm and stared at him, hard. Atobe watched on with raised eyebrows, noting that Tezuka was frowning slightly in displeasure. Oishi looked worried and he appeared to be ready to step between Fuji and Kikumaru as and when it was necessary.

Fuji opened his eyes to stare back, calm and obviously nonplussed by Kikumaru.

"I see," Kikumaru began, his lips pressed tight to form a straight line. "You've made your choice."

Everyone watched as Kikumaru stepped away from Fuji, backing towards where Tezuka and Oishi were standing. Fuji remained standing at his spot, closing his eyes to give everyone a small, barely visible smile.

"Yes, I have."

End: Chapter 14


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"You say nice and mean a different thing than I do." Kikumaru's eyes met Fuji's unblinkingly.

"Use your eyes to judge for yourself what you want to believe in," Fuji's half-amused, half nonchalant answer made Kikumaru frown.

Kikumaru glanced over to Kawamura's table before snapping back, "It's you whom I don't trust!"

The youngest member of their team ignored the brewing row. "Hmm... maybe I should order something." Ryoma caught sight of someone walking past their table to join Kawamura and his friend at the table. The newcomer sat down next to the girl and leaned against the back of his seat in a casual manner, smirking openly. Fuji was the only one who noticed that Ryoma was trembling slightly while holding onto the menu. The older boy nudged Ryoma lightly with his elbow, a small frown etched between his brows.

"What's wrong?"

At this, the other boys all turned their attention to Ryoma.

"Akutsu..."

Momoshiro leaned over to peer at the other. "What?"

"That's the guy who hurt Echizen." Fuji's soft answer made everyone peer harder at the boy sitting near the corner of the restaurant.

"Why's he with Taka-san?" Kikumaru demanded of Fuji. The prodigy only shrugged.

"Don't tell me what to do." The silver-haired boy's low, gruff answer carried clearly to the boys who were spying on them. "I'm letting you off this time on the account of our acquaintance. It won't happen again."

"I never knew-" Kikumaru's sentence was cut off by a sudden gasp from Oishi, as the boy called Akutsu stood up and proceeded to pour his beverage over Kawamura's head.

"Jin!" The girl called after Akutsu, clearly distraught. "Takashi-kun! Are you alright?"

Momoshiro stared at the boy nearing their table with a look of awe. "What an unreasonable fellow..."

"Not so loud, Momo!" Kikumaru nearly yelped, sinking into his chair almost immediately.

Ryoma appeared to consider the other boy's passage for a brief moment before sticking his foot out just a second before Akutsu walked past, tripping the older boy. A hushed silence fell over the table as everyone froze and waited for Akutsu's reaction. Ryoma seemed completely oblivious to the shocked reactions of his teammates. "Thanks for last time," he said, a smirk on his face.

Akutsu's eyes widened in realization as he recognized the bratty kid who dared to mess with him. "Seigaku..." he growled.

"I forgot to introduce myself," Ryoma said, his casual posture showing that he was completely unconcerned about dealing with the bully. If anything, Fuji thought, Ryoma looked like a bully, glaring down smugly at the gray-haired teen. "I'm Echizen Ryoma from Seigaku. It's nice to meet you."

Fuji couldn't help it. He started to laugh very quietly, muffling it under his hand. The sheer nerve of their prized first year was beyond compare.

Akutsu, though, straightened slowly. "Echizen," he growled, leaning in a bit. "I am going to rip you apart," he promised. He took a menacing step toward the other boy, but stopped when Kawamura rushed up to him, the woman at his side.

"Jin!" the woman said, catching his arm. "Please!"

"You're upsetting Yuki-chan," Kawamura said, frowning.

Akutsu frowned momentarily before straightening his collar and glancing at the woman, and then giving Kawamura a cold look. "This isn't over," he said, finally turning to stare at Ryoma.

"Mada mada dane," Ryoma said back, apparently as comfortable as he always was, and just as ready to instigate.

Momoshiro finally grabbed his kohai by the collar and yanked him out of the way, and even though Echizen squirmed, his grip was as tight as a manacle. "Behave," he whispered. "Stop provoking him!"

Akutsu looked at the two. "You'd be wise to keep him on a leash," Akutsu said. He turned and walked out the door, leaving the woman behind him.

"Jin!" she said, and buried her face in her hands, crying again.

"It's okay, Yuki-chan," Kawamura said awkwardly. "I'm sure he didn't mean it."

None of the other Seigaku regulars were at all convinced, but it seemed to calm the woman down. "He's a good boy!" she insisted.

"I know," Kawamura said soothingly. He patted her on the shoulder awkwardly.

"Taka-san, how about you walk your friend home?" Fuji offered. "I'll pay for you," he said.

Kawamura stared at his friend before giving him a shy smile. "Thanks, Fujiko. I'll pay you back."

"You can treat me to some wasabi sushi again," Fuji said. "I hope Yuki-san feels better," he offered.

Kawamura gave him a grateful look, and Fuji signaled to the waiter to explain. The other regulars watched him, wondering what was going on.

"What was that about?" Momoshiro asked after Fuji had asked for Kawamura's bill.

"No clue," Fuji said sweetly. He glanced over at Ryoma, noticing how the boy looked like he was just about to kick Momoshiro for the insult to his person.

"Right," Kikumaru said. He tilted his head, obviously not believing Fuji.

"All I know is that Kawamura was meeting a friend here," Fuji said. Of course, he knew who the friend was, but it was more fun to let Kikumaru's wild speculations run rampant. It wouldn't hurt Taka-san – and maybe it would improve his reputation. Many people view him as one of Atobe's thugs, not seeing he had a life outside of the diva's demands.

Ryoma didn't appear to be bothered by what had just happened, and was settling back into his seat comfortably with a smirk on his lips.

Kikumaru turned intelligent eyes on the prodigy of the team, clearly unhappy. "I find it hard to believe things you say."

"Believe what you want to then." With that, Fuji stood up to foot Kawamura's bill.

* * *

Doubles was game played by two people. And that was exactly what Tezuka and Atobe were trying to achieve when they decided that they were going to play doubles. It wasn't going to be easy, but since when had anything which happened between them been easy?

"First, we have to be sensitive towards our partner's movements," Atobe murmured while holding up a piece of rope. "I've seen the Golden Pair train Echizen and Momo using this before."

Tezuka understood the reason behind the usage of the rope and said nothing. All he did was reach over to take the rope out of Atobe's hands, tying one end around his body in snug fit. Atobe did the same, frowning slightly as the length of rope between them immediately tangled up.

"Stand a distance away." Even as he spoke, Atobe started backing away from Tezuka. There was a sharp snap and both boys were tugged forwards against each other. The diva scowled. "I said stand a distance away-"

"I did."

"If you did move only a little, this wouldn't have happened-"

"You shouldn't have moved, actually."

There was a pause as both boys glared at each other, clearly displeased. Atobe stood up, dusting himself off.

"Well then." He huffed, trying to get a grip on his temper. "We should try this again."

This time, they were careful to move into position without anymore mishaps. Atobe watched as Tezuka served, and he ran towards the net while Tezuka started moving for the center of the court, leaving the left side of their court open.

"No, Tezuka! There should always-" Atobe began, returning the tennis ball which had bounced off the wall they were practicing against.

He backed into Tezuka, tripped the other boy, tripped over the other boy's legs, and the both of them landed onto the floor of the tennis court in a tangled heap of limbs and rope. The stray tennis ball bounced off a spot near them, cheerfully rolling to a stop at the end of the court.

Atobe lay underneath Tezuka, their arms and legs tangled up in an unbelievable manner. The diva tried to untangle himself from his rival, removing his face from the other boy's hair with an indignant splutter. Tezuka got up from the floor carefully, but there was a sharp snap as the rope connecting them jerked him to a stop and he fell on top of Atobe again, causing the older boy to lose whatever air he had painstakingly managed to gather in his lungs.

"Oof!" Atobe let his head fall and the back of his skull connected against the hard synthetic courts painfully. "Ow!"

There was a soft grunt from Tezuka, whose face had collided against Atobe's chest.

The both of them started to untangled themselves again. It wasn't until the rope was carefully laid out between them did Atobe start to rant. "You could've killed me!"

"I think you're exaggerating," Tezuka said quietly. "There was no danger of you being killed."

"Seriously injured!" Atobe fought back. He rotated his shoulder, feeling the bruises beginning to form along his back. "Are you trying to take me out?"

"Tempting as that would be, I find that there's no benefit to the team in removing our second best player," Tezuka replied flatly.

"Second best?" Atobe echoed, and his voice began to rise. "I'll show you who's second best!"

Tezuka crossed his arms over his chest tilted his head. His hair had been thoroughly rumpled by the fall, and his glasses were slightly crooked, but his calm expression showed no sign of strain. "Are we going to rehash this argument, or are we going to do what we came here to do, and figure out where we're going wrong?"

Atobe forced himself to take in a deep breath to calm himself, and then another for good measure. Killing Tezuka, as tempting and as satisfying as it would be, would be counterproductive. Right now everyone believed that they would never be able to form a decent doubles pair, and he needed Tezuka's cooperation to pull it off. "We went wrong in that you're not following my lead," said Atobe in a much softer voice. "I'm the front player. So you should be watching me."

"There's more than one formation in doubles, Atobe. We need to watch each other," Tezuka replied quietly. His eyes were level as he studied the ball, which had finally come to a stop. "Doubles requires that we not only pay attention to the ball and our opponent, but also our partners as well. It's adding an extra dimension of concentration."

"Are you implying my concentration is lacking?" Atobe asked, feeling thoroughly offended.

"I'm making an observation. Oishi excels at doubles because he watches everything; Kikumaru is similarly skilled because of his amazing concentration."

"You and I are both good at concentrating. We should be able to get this!"

"I agree. Shall we try again?"

Atobe cast a distrustful glance at Tezuka before rising to his feet. "I'm tempted to say we should start with something simpler – such as learning to look at each other without hating the other."

"Momoshiro and Kaidou worked together well," said Tezuka flatly, obviously not liking where Atobe's mind was going.

"Momoshiro and Kaidou have fewer issues between them. They just plain don't like the other. We, however, have taken it to new heights of raging hatred and loathing." Atobe undid the rope, sliding it off his waist. "What we have here, Tezuka, is a severe case in failure to communicate."

Tezuka looked like he was about to high-tail it out of there. "I don't see what our personal issues have to do with tennis."

"You know as well as I do that we're never going to succeed if we can't talk to each other without insulting the other. We've made it clear that we don't like the other, but it's getting old. We're not Momoshiro and Kaidou - I don't work well with people who can't respect me, and I know the same is true for you as well."

Tezuka thought on it for a moment. "What are you suggesting?"

"Let's go for dinner." Atobe's casual reply made Tezuka stare. "We can talk over dinner, yes?"

"Ah," the neutral reply from the captain only made Atobe roll his eyes, barely.

"I shall take that as a yes." With that, the diva started walking towards his racket bag. "Where do you want to go and eat?"

"Anywhere will do." Tezuka had undone the rope around himself and started keeping his racket as well. "It doesn't matter."

There was a soft huff from Atobe. "I'll pick the place, then."

They ended up at a somewhat quiet and private cafe just round a corner from their school, a place Tezuka had never been to before. Atobe appeared to notice his expression, then smiled, confident.

"Fuji and I come here sometimes." He sat down in one of the corner booths, reclining into his seat casually. "What would you like?"

Tezuka was beginning to feel like a girl who was dragged unwillingly onto a date with a guy she would rather kick than eat dinner with. "It's okay. I'll look at the menu."

"The milkshakes here are pretty good. They have some recent additions of spicy food, but Fuji's the one who would prefer them. Their western food is not bad too."

The captain lifted his head to stare at Atobe. "I think I'll choose after looking through the menu."

"Ah," Atobe shrugged, nonplussed by the other boy's reply.

Atobe allowed silence to reign for a while before regarding Tezuka with a small frown. He was obviously the one who was more relaxed in the current atmosphere. He couldn't understand why, though. There was nothing wrong with having dinner together, right? It wasn't as if he was asking Tezuka to come over to his house or something...

The bespectacled boy was tensed and somewhat stiff, watching his surroundings with a critical eye. It was true when Atobe recognized that he had problems communicating with other people. And Tezuka appeared to carry that problem with him, regardless of where he went. A while back, Atobe had decided to help the other boy by educating him on the finer points of communication with other human beings. It looked as if it was about time he start enforcing his plans.

Furthermore, they need to talk to understand each other. Sitting around staring at tabletops wasn't going to get them far in terms of mutual understanding.

"So," Atobe began, and Tezuka looked up sharply, almost stern. The diva frowned. "Why do you always look so unhappy?"

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. You always look as if something had crawled into your pants and died there." The offended look Tezuka gave him wasn't going to help things any, Atobe decided. "Okay, we shan't talk about that now, since it's obvious that you have problems talking to fellow human beings about yourself. Let's talking about something else." Atobe tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully. "What're your hobbies? I have a few, so I'd rather listen to yours first."

Tezuka didn't appear to be keen on replying. "I read when I'm free. Sometimes I make trips to the mountains for fishing and camping."

"Fishing!" The surprised exclamation almost shocked Tezuka. "I like fly fishing... and reading is one of my favorite hobbies. I love languages though. It's too bad that Seigaku doesn't offer third language courses. So... we're not as different as you think, Tezuka."

The other boy declined to reply.

"Hmmn..." Atobe tried to change the topic, seeing the lack of favorable response to his statements. "What about music, then? Personally, I prefer the classical."

Tezuka's eyes met with his for a brief moment before sliding away. "I don't listen to music much."

A raised eyebrow from the other boy. "That can't be possible. Come on, this is supposed to be a sharing session. I've told you what I liked, I'm sure you can do the same."

Tezuka appeared to think about what Atobe said. The older boy tried to make himself look as friendly as possible, smiling encouragingly. Finally, after a long moment, there was a mumble from Tezuka which sounded more like a low rumbling in his chest, combined with him saying something like 'ack'.

"Speak up," Atobe encouraged. He hated to admit it, but the slight blush that was tracing Tezuka's face was making him incurably curious.

"I like Gackt," Tezuka said, then looked down at the table, to the side where the waitress had disappeared... anywhere but at Atobe.

Atobe felt his jaw drop in a most undignified fashion. Rubbing his ears, he stared at his rival, unable to believe he had heard right. "Did you just say you liked Gackt?" he asked, needing confirmation.

"I don't repeat myself," Tezuka said.

"You... like Gackt," Atobe said, trying to figure out when the world had ended and why no one had deigned to tell him. Fuji was going to have a fit when he found out.

No. He wouldn't tell. This was about building trust, and right now everything Tezuka said to him would be kept to himself. Let Fuji find out on his own. Though it was almost too good to keep to himself.

"Is there a problem with my musical taste?" Tezuka asked. It seemed like he was ready to start twitching.

"No. I'm just amazed that you're not listening to classical or something like that - I would have thought you'd have rejected anything made in the last 100 years."

"I'm not totally out of sync with our generation, Atobe," Tezuka said calmly.

"I guess not. It's too bad - I would have liked to discuss music with someone."

"I like classical as well," Tezuka said. "I just like Gackt better."

"Anyone else?"

"Malice Mizer, L'arcenCiel, Glay," Tezuka admitted, apparently opening up since Atobe hadn't made fun of him and was taking him seriously.

Atobe listened to Tezuka talk about music for a while, watching the usually stoic boy's face soften as he discussed lyrics and artists which inspired him. Something about Tezuka seemed a bit different, removed from the stress of school and practice, and Atobe was surprised to discover that he rather liked the thoughtful young man who sat across from him.

When the waitress returned, Tezuka surprised him by ordering one of the milkshakes he had recommended along with a crepe. Atobe ordered soba and tea, and they turned the menus over to the server to be taken away.

"You know, I keep thinking on why we don't get along, and I haven't been able to come up with a good reason," Atobe said. "Aside from the personality conflict."

"I think the personality conflict would be enough."

"Is it?"

Tezuka sighed. "Some people just aren't meant to get along, Atobe. It would be nice if we could respect each other, though."

"Have you ever wondered... what things would be like, if we did get along?"

"A lot more peaceful."

Atobe blinked. "I think you just made a joke!"

A slight smile tugged at Tezuka's lips. "That would be impossible. According to you, I have no sense of humor."

Atobe toyed with the chopsticks on their table. "Really, Tezuka. You're full of surprises tonight."

"So are you," Tezuka said. "I never would have imagined you liked to fish. It hardly seems glamorous enough for your tastes."

"My family has a private boat. I'll take you out on it, sometime."

The slight smile surfaced once more. "Thanks for your offer. I'm more used to river fishing, though."

"If that's the case," Atobe smirked. "I know a few choice locations for river fishing too. I've brought Fujiko and Taka-san there before, but neither of them appreciated my efforts. Fujiko has no patience for fishing at all. He's the kind who'd like fishes to jump into his net without attempting. Taka-san can only think about which type of fish is good for eating."

The small smile had broadened a little, and Atobe felt a comfortable warmth starting from within.

It was the first time they had spoken so amicably to each other without snipping, and Atobe was amazed to find himself enjoying their conversation. In fact, he had noticed that if one didn't like another, whatever else the other person said would be offending, and knowing his own personality, it was more like than not that he would try and find fault with the other person's argument.

"I think we should continue practicing our doubles." Atobe began again moments later, when the both of them were half-way through their food. "And when we're good enough to face down people for doubles, we should get Sumire-chan or the Golden Pair to check."

Tezuka couldn't help agreeing. It was true, anyway.

It looked as if their target goal of playing doubles wasn't far now.

End: Chapter 15


End file.
